


To Be a Brother

by PeacefulDiscord



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Brotherly Love, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Poetry, Read chapter warnings, not all will be sad, only a little poetry, relationships are there but minor, theres not enough familial fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeacefulDiscord/pseuds/PeacefulDiscord
Summary: A bunch of minifics mostly focusing on the familial relationships for the tagged dweebs— some AU, some not.Chapter 15: What if they all met as children? Tobirama would probably go insaneChapter 16: The Senju are weird. Madara knew that, Izuna knew that, now others were getting to know that. Even commonalities weren’t spared
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna & Uchiha Madara
Comments: 126
Kudos: 320





	1. To Lose Your Mind Takes More Than a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> This is sad and is mostly canon-compliant so take that with a grain of salt. Madara is a sad, sad bean 
> 
> Please forgive the poetry, I try but you might not like the weird cadence and rhythm I’ve got going. Starts more slow then gets a little frantic— the emotions being felt are reflected in the words so try reading it as if you are Madara. I think it’ll make it easier/better to read

Dark hair, dark eyes

Wide, bright smile

Humbling and stumbling

You fall into my arms

Bruises color your knees

There’s dirt beneath your nails

I’m worried for your injuries

But you drag me to play outside

“Brother,” you say.“I’m fine.”

Taller now

And you’ve tasted war

Our brothers lay too still

Hugging close— can’t let you go so far

You squeeze back with

A watery laugh

Glistening eyes whisper

“Brother, I’ll be fine”

For all your complaints

You nag as much as me

This illness wasn’t much a surprise

So you’re not too pleased

Father said stay from the rain

But the storm’s become a part of me

Now I’m cold and sick

And you’re really not pleased

But you wipe the sweat from my brow

And take my responsibilities

Guilt tightens my chest

You say:

“Brother I’m fine,

Don’t worry about me— for once I know how you feel”

Waggled eyebrows

You’re quick to tease

The Elders want me married

It sits ill with me

Because I like the gender

that’s the same as me

My shame is yours

And it makes me sick

So you shoo them away

“Love who you love, Brother, it’ll be okay”

A young man

And you fight everyday

But you make time to fall in love

These little prices to pay

Injuries for heartbeats

You worry when she’s away

But you catch me worrying

Smile, laugh

“Brother, I’m fine” you say.

Dark eyes bleed red

Protectiveness runs deep

You care for everyone

Their hurts and pain

You’ve become a shield

Dented and damaged

You grin at me

“Brother, I’ll be fine—

We’ll soon have peace”

We’re planning your marriage

The Clan needs an heir

You just want the wedding

And your love won’t wait another year

The battles are getting worse

And the clan’s a little weak

But you sob in the temple

Joyous as can be

I go to wipe the tears

But you catch my hands to stop me

“Brother I’m fine,

Brother, I’m so happy”

Dark hair, dark eyes

Bloodstained smile

Determination that lists away

And gaze that still whispers to me

“Brother I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine”

Gasped between clenched teeth

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine”

The light’s dimming

Fingers losing strength

Your wife sobs harshly

Our tears are mingling

I’m begging, I’m praying

Izuna, for once, won’t you listen to me?

You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine

It’s a promise I made

A promise I’ll keep

You’re shaking, breath hangs heavy

Doesn’t enter your lungs

You whisper “I’ll be fine”

Voice cracking like your broken ribs

“I’ll be fine”

While you die in my arms

Even before you can hold your kid

“I’ll be fine”

You whisper for the last time

Izuna you know

I always hated when you lied

Your voice haunts me

And I’m chasing your visage

Your wife’s moved on

And your child has grown away from me

There’s no one to my name

No balm to my pain

The more I look

The more you drift away

My bandage, my soul

The light of my life

I’m forgetting you

How you laughed and smiled

I’m forgetting you!

How you fought and feared

I’m forgetting you because you’re not near!

Izu, I’m losing my mind

Without you, I can’t even find air

I’ve died every moment

I awake to see I’m still here

I need you back

This life has no meaning

It’s bleak, it’s—

Your murderer doesn’t care

He’s not sorry at all

He mocks me, you know

Passionate, fiery, fierce

_How dare he act like you?_

He thinks me a monster

Yet all our loved ones

He steals them from me

I’ve lost them

I’ve lost you

Crazy, they call me

Cruel, it’s all they see

I’ve lost you

I’ve lost you

Izuna, how could you leave?

You didn’t make that choice

No, it was taken from you

Taken from me

And I’ll bring you back

Wipe those tears and blood with my sleeve

I’ll bring you back to me

You’ll have your world

You’ll have your peace

Everything you ever wanted

Izuna, I’ll give them to you

You didn’t have to leave

When you come back, you’ll see

And when you say “Brother, I’m fine”

This time, I’ll really believe


	2. Fraternity

"I'll do it!"

Madara began shoveling the rest of his food into his mouth quickly. He knew it was poor manners and would normally have him scolded but Izuna just woke up and if he didn't hurry he wouldn't get to feed him again. Which wasn't fair because he'd been _practicing._ Every day Madara twisted his chopsticks about his hand and learned to fill it with food and put it into someone else's mouth. It had been a week since he'd last stabbed his older brother in the cheek with them and even longer since he made a mess in his efforts. Now he was sure he knew how to use his chopsticks almost as well as his dad so it was only right that he got to feed the baby.

His mother laughed, smiling at him indulgently. "Okay, okay. It's your turn this time. Just slow down Madara. You wouldn't want to choke."

The little boy slowed his pace down a fraction, shooting his older brother a warning glare. Tsukiya snorted, grinning at the "threatening" pout Madara was sending him. He slowed down, exaggerating his own movement so that by the time he took one bite and chewed, Madara had already finished five.

"You hear that Izu?" His mother cooed, gently pinching the nose of the one year old much to Izuna's delight. "Your nii-san wants to feed you."

Izuna pushed his chubby fist into his mouth, watching Madara for a moment, before trying to lean out of their mom's arms and grab the food in Madara's bowl. Madara beamed, reaching across the table to scoop up some food from Izuna's bowl and feed him. 

"No!" Izuna pulled away, shaking his head and clamping his mouth shut. 

Madara looked at his parents in confusion, brows furrowing when they shrugged and gestures for him to try again. When Madara drew close once more, Izuna angrily pushed Madara's hand away, yelling "no!"

"No what, Izuna?" Tsukiya asked, watching carefully as Madara's mouth fell to a frown, the little boy's eyes starting to water. He sighed, hesitating with his next words. The four year old took Izuna's actions too seriously, often crying because he thought their youngest brother didn't like him. "You don't want Madara to feed you?"

"No!" Izuna cried, reaching again for Madara's bowl. His own eyes were starting to glisten and he fussed when he couldn't touch the bowl, rounded cheeks and nose reddening.

Their mother rubbed a hand down his back soothingly, shooting Madara a quick smile to try a reassure him everything was fine. She turned back to Izuna, bouncing him. "Oh my baby, what's wrong?"

Izuna squirmed, looking as though he felt the world may end, gaze dancing between Madara and Madara's bowl. "Nii-! Wan nii-!"

"Oh!" Madara hastily emptied his chopsticks of Izuna's food and refilled them with his own, pushing it into Izuna's waiting mouth. "Here baby!"

The flush faded from Izuna's face and the toddler made a happy noise, wiggling to get closer. Their mother set him down on the table with a fond sigh, laughing delightedly as Izuna crawled across and onto Madara, nearly causing Madara to topple backwards if not for Tajima grabbing them quickly and situating them so Izuna was sat in Madara's lap.

Both children happy and comfortable, Madara continued feeding Izuna from his bowl, pressing a kiss to the baby's cheek and forehead in between bites. "Good job Izuna!"

"He has his own food, Madara," Tajima said, ruffling a hand through his second son's hair. "You don't have to give him yours."

Madara finally took his eyes off Izuna, glancing at his dad with a bright smile that crinkled his eyes. "It's okay Daddy! I'll give Izuna anything he wants," Madara nuzzled his nose to Izuna's cheek. "He's my baby."  
  


It was odd, sitting at this table without Tsukiya or his mom and Madara preferred to spend more time elsewhere. Today though, today marked seven years since their last meal together as a family. He couldn't bring himself to be anywhere else.

Izuna slumped over his brother, warm as if he'd just dragged himself out of bed, snatching a bite of Madara's food. 

"Really, Izuna?" Madara grumbled, trying half-heartedly to bat his brother away.

Izuna clung tighter, snagging Madara's tea and draining the cup quickly. "You said anything I want Nii-san."

"When you were a baby! You're nine!"

"There was no age limit!" Izuna stole another bite of Madara's food. Chewing and swallowing quickly, he planted a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to Madara's cheek. "Mwah! I'm late for training! See you later— I'm coming back for the rest of your food!"

Tajima sighed, biting back a smile as he basked in the sound of his now youngest child's laughter as the boy left the house. "You've spoiled him."

Madara shrugged, putting his bowl aside and taking another. "He's my baby."

———————————————————

Hashirama scuffed his sandal against the ground, following beside his dad and cousin Taka reluctantly. He didn't want to go home. Tobirama was home and that meant their mom would only pay attention to the toddler, no matter how well Hashirama did in training today. He pouted. The baby was so odd. Everyone else's little brothers and sisters made lots of noise and were fun to play with, but his little brother was quiet and often didn't want to be touched. And they were cute! Tobirama looked like the people in the house that coughed and threw up all the time. Hashirama wanted the kami to send him a new one. This one was broken.

They had barely stepped onto the pathway when his mom came rushing out, hair messy and tears streaking down her face. "Butsuma, hurry. Tobi— he's not well!"

"Is that a bad thing?" Taka asked.

Hashirama blinked. "What?"

"My dad said that your brother should die 'cuz he's a curse. It might be better for the clan if he died." The eight year old sounded so sure of himself and Hashirama swallowed harshly, staring at the door his dad disappeared through. Would it be?  
  
  


The next few days passed silently save for the times when Tobi would sob and whine pitifully from their parents' room. Hashirama swirled his brush absently across his paper, feeling bored and sad and just miserable. There was nothing to do while his parents worried over Tobirama and he was starting to miss the baby. Even going to bed was lonely and sad because now he had to sleep alone instead of with Tobi like he had been for the past few months.

Butsuma slipped into the room, crouching beside him. "Hashirama."

"Yes daddy?"

His dad's eyes were shining and his face looked like he wasn't feeling well. "Tobi— Tobirama has to go. The kami wants him back. W-would you like to come say bye?"

Hashirama froze. "Wants him back?"

Butsuma nodded, a tear slipping past his eye before he wiped it away quickly. Hashirama followed his dad to his room, sitting down beside where Tobirama lay on the futon, pale skin looking even paler and not moving at all.

"Look Tobi! Look who it is! It's Anija!" The joy coming from his mother's lips sounded wrong.

Tobi didn't answer or look up or squeal quietly the way he always did when Hashirama came home after training. He just lay there.

"Tobi?" Hashirama whispered. Why wasn't his brother waking up? "Tobi?"

Suddenly he was crying. He didn't want Tobi to leave! He didn't want his brother to go back to the kami! Everything was sad and lonely and if Tobi was gone it would stay that way.

"Tobi, wake up!" Hashirama reached for his brother, hands glowing weirdly green, and hugged him tight. "Tobi, wake up!"

"Hashirama—"

"Butsuma, look!"

"Ni-a?"  
  


A month later and Hashirama was restless to get home, Taka staring at him like he was crazy. Still, Hashirama tugged him along quicker, stopping at the edge of the pathway. A soft, familiar squeal rang out and suddenly something small slammed against his body, making the five year old drop into a slightly defensive stance so he wouldn't fall over. Light colored hair tickled his chin and pale arms wrapped tightly around him, clutching his clothes. 

Squinting red eyes and a big smile grinned up at him. "Nija!"

Hashirama beamed, hugging his cute little brother. After Tobirama got better— something to do with the weird glowing thing Hashirama's hands did— the baby, despite being really pale, stopped looking ghostly. "Hi Tobi!"

Tobi raised his arms, looping them around Hashirama's neck. "Up."

Cute and spoiled. Hashirama pulled the small boy into his arms, holding him carefully. Once secure, Tobi unlatched one hand, opening his fist to reveal a pretty flower. 

"You!" Tobirama said, pushing the small stem into Hashirama's hair.

Hashirama smiled, heart swelling until it felt too wide for his chest, and he kissed Tobi's cheek soundly. "Thank you!"

Tobirama smiled, tucking his face against Hashirama's, the new roundness to his pale face dimpling on one side. "Love you Nija!"

"I love you too, Tobi!" 

Taka was wrong. His brother wasn't a curse at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this when I should have been writing an essay-- comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Madara: And make sure you take care of your health during this time. Remember, your mental health is just as important as your physical--
> 
> Hashirama, blinking: Really? I thought that as long as you were in peak form, you would be fine.
> 
> Madara, spluttering, flailing: What do you MEAN--? That's not how that works!! Do you Senju know nothing?
> 
> Izuna, rubbing his palms into his eyes: ...THIS is the greatest medic nin of Fire Country?! 
> 
> Hashirama, wailing: Izuna, don't be so mean! I thought we were finally getting along! It's not my fault you Uchiha have your curse of madness or whatever that weird thing with your eyes is.
> 
> Madara: THAT'S NOT WHAT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT
> 
> Hashirama: Curse of crazy? Curse of instability? Curse of creepy eyes that still can't make you as strong as me?
> 
> Madara: YOU BASTARD--
> 
> Tobirama, eye twitching. Madara and Hashirama get swept away by some random large wave crashing through the office. 
> 
> Tobirama: (to readers) You can visit these online resources if you or anyone you know is in need of support. 
> 
> \--> Centre of Interactive Mental Health Solutions (https://cimhs.comLinks to an external site.) 
> 
> \--> Amwell (https://amwell.com/cm/services/online-therapy/


	3. Can We Measure This Love (Part 1)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort-of Prompt Fill/Suggestion (I don't really know) by @The_Archiver 
> 
> Not sure if this is what you meant but this is what I ended up with :)
> 
> Thank you @MadMothMadame who puts up with my weird ideas, read this fic and gave it the OK
> 
> Note: It may seem OOC but in my mind, this was before Tobirama was really put into battle, meaning his siblings are alive and he's still an un-blooded, fairly innocent child
> 
> Warnings: Mistreatment of a child, canon-typical violence and injury

Hashirama's little brother was more talented than most people could even dream of being, that he knew for a fact. Cousin Fuuyu liked to claim that he bragged too much but it was true! No other seven-year old picked up jutsu so quickly, especially not ones for each type of affinity. It took more control and genius and skill that most adults, except seasoned Uchiha with developed Sharingan, did not even have. And having the Sharingan was practically cheating anyways because they _copied_ the jutsus rather than learned them with the patience and practice like Tobirama did. So Hashirama's little brother was obviously the most brilliant shinobi out there.

And one of the most adorable, even when he was waking Hashirama up at an ungodly hour.

"Anija!" Tobirama whispered excitedly, clambering onto Hashirama's futon to hover over him, face only inches from Hashirama's own. Tobirama shook him. "Anija, wake up!"

"Mmmm what is it, Tobi?" Hashirama blinked blearily, glancing at the pale, buttery light creeping into his room. It was only minutes past dawn. Tobi was never up this early unless somebody woke him with something "important". The seven year old was rather picky about what he considered was a good enough reason to wake him up— anything short of someone injured or dying was often brushed aside with an angry pout and promises of surprisingly scary retribution. Hashirama had learned his lesson the first time.

"I want to train with you, Anija."

"Hm?" Hashirama mumbled intelligently.

"The Mokuton, I found this scroll, it says it's water and earth jutsu based. And my favorite jutsus are water jutsus so we can practice together!"

"O-okay. That's nice Tobi, but why are you waking me up now?"

Tobirama crawled over, settling himself heavily onto Hashirama's stomach and knocking the air from his lungs, grabbing Hashirama's face between his hands. "I want to go now Anija."

"Oi! Tobi, get off!" He wheezed.

"Please, Anija! I've gotten good! I can keep up now!"

"Tobi—!" Hashirama squawked, flailing, as Tobirama dropped himself to lay on him, thin arms wrapping tight around his neck.

"Anija—"

"Fine! Just get off Tobi! I'm dying!"

Tobirama pulled up slightly, bringing his face to Hashirama's so he could glare at him. "Don't be stupid Anija! Dying's not funny!"

"Neither is this!"

Tobirama climbed off of him, making towards the door with a scoff. "Stop being so dramatic Anija. It's improper. I'll wait for you. Ten minutes."

The door slid shut behind the younger boy, leaving Hashirama to drag himself from the warmth of his bed with a woeful sigh. He could never say no to his younger brother.

———————————————————

"No Tobi!" Hashirama could say no to his brother. He'd say it a dozen times over if _this_ was what Tobirama meant by training.

The boy crossed his arms, pouting mulishly. "Anija—"

"I'm not attacking you with a wood dragon Tobi!"

"I'll be hitting you back with a water one!"

"It's not strong enough!"

"It could be if you'd help me practice!"

"No Tobirama!"

Tobirama looked sway from him then, glaring angrily at the pond beside them. If he were a little more immature, a little more like Hashirama, he'd have probably thrown himself to the ground in a fit. Instead he resigned himself to twisting his fingers as subtly as he could, which wasn't subtle at _all_ considering Hashirama was right there _looking_ at him, and sending a pillar of water shooting towards Hashirama's face. Flailing, Hashirama threw himself to the side, hands flicking through seals quickly and letting thin vines wrap around Tobirama's body, pulling him down to the ground and keeping him trussed up on the grass despite his struggling. "Don't be a brat Tobi!"

Tobirama stilled. "I'm not a brat! You're just mean!"

Hashirama's patience snapped. While determination was a good trait, Tobirama was just plain _stubborn_. "I'm not being mean! I just don't want you to get hurt, stupid."

"Yes you are! If you didn't want me to get hurt, you'd help me get stronger so no one can hurt me!" Red eyes started to glisten as Tobirama started to struggle more violently. "Everyone keeps hurting me and you won't even help me learn to defend myself!"

Hashirama's anger left him quickly at that. "What do you mean 'everyone keeps hurting you'?"

He had thought they stopped that years ago, stopped the moment Hashirama made sure there was no mistaking the gravity of the consequences on those who dared to lay a finger on Tobirama. 

No answer. Tobirama wriggled, turning himself over and facing away from Hashirama. Hashirama sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He'd have to do this the hard way then.

Pushing himself off the ground, he stalked over to his brother, plopping down beside the younger boy and digging his fingers mercilessly into Tobirama's sides.

"Ah! No! Anija!" Tobirama shrieked, twisting to get away from his brother's tickling fingers. Hashirama just followed Tobirama's movements, darting his hands out to meet each of Tobirama's ticklish spots— dancing along his neck, belly, and feet until Tobirama was gasping between laughs. "Anija! No! Please! Stop, stop, stop! I'm sorry! Anija, no!"

Hashirama paused, humming thoughtfully, slowly retracting his hands while Tobirama eyes him with wary hope. "Hmmmm....nope!"

He struck again, more enthusiastic as Tobirama bucked and wailed, laughter making tears run down his face.

"You'll tell me now?"

"Y-y-yes!"

"You won't be bratty?"

"I'm not— ah!"

"You won't be bratty Tobi?"

"N-nooo Anija!"

Hashirama say back, releasing the vines and pulling his brother into a hug, letting his chin rest on fluffy white hair. "Good. So, tell me. Who's hurting you?"

Tobirama curled himself closer, chewing on his lip while fiddling with Hashirama's hand between his own as he caught his breath. "The cousins. The teachers. They say I'm bad luck. I haven't proven my worth."

The brown-haired boy scowled, hugging his brother tighter. " _They're_ stupid. You're more worthy than they could dream of."

The younger boy looked unconvinced. Hashirama nibbled his own lip.

"What if we practiced together? Like, combined our jutsus. You said the Mokuton is earth and water jutsu, right? And you're becoming proficient in water jutsu so if we worked together, we'd be unstoppable and no one could say you weren't worthy."

Tobirama glanced up at him from beneath white lashes, eyes bright. "Honest?"

"Honest."

———————————————————

It was times like these when Hashirama let himself remember the beaming smile that met him that day when he agreed to train with his brother. The smile that made silly, placating words serious actions with it's missing top tooth on the right staring up at him and making him refuse solo training until they'd each become powerhouses in their own right, too different in their skill set to keep learning the same things. Still, they would come together to spend hours upon hours training to blend their forces, more powerful in the span of an hour between the two of them than their active shinobi forces combined (though that could be in part of having cut down half of their fighters once they'd gotten rid of child soldiers following Butsuma's death just a scant month before). He wasn't sure if it was good to even have the few reinforcements they did have though, especially with the enemies like the Kaguya who were particularly resistant to injury.

Tobirama and Hashirama had spent most of the battle deflecting and protecting their clansmen than anything else and while Hashirama could perhaps last quite some time longer, Tobirama was getting tired, his speed having dropped considerably until he was no faster than the average shinobi. More and more shinobi were getting injured, the white blades erupting in the most unusual ways to shatter their armor and pierce deep into the flesh. If they didn't end this battle soon, their clan would suffer significant loss.

The Kaguya Clan wasn't one to balk at opportunity, the large horde of their military forces gathered before them dwarfing the Senju clan by at least two-to-one, eager in the fall of the Senjus' clan head to uproot the already unstable foundations of new leadership. Many clans perhaps shared the same thought, the ones that didn't know of either brother's formidable reputations, thinking instead that the green of their unfurling leaves meant they wouldn't last the winter. Oh yes, Hashirama knew what their enemies and even their allies believed, knew they didn't want to trust the 17 year old clan head with his 13 year old heir. It was too bad they hadn't quite realized the new names Hashirama and Tobirama had earned for themselves. Alas, it would be poor planning and overconfidence that left their enemies horribly out of their depth and leading them doubtlessly to deaths that would be prime example for any other fool wishing to try their luck.

They would need to end this now.

"Tobi!" He shouted across the field where his brother was battling two Kaguya, blocking them from an injured shinobi kneeling behind him, Tobirama's broken happuri laying in pieces on the ground. His face was bleeding in three lines from where their blades had cut him, the one along his chin a result a single quick movement of his head shooting up and back when they'd sent a spiral of bone through Tobirama's leg, just a little below his knee that felled him quickly, his feet dropping to little more than a crouch and nearly laying all the way back until his head almost touched the ground, just barely sparing him from being impaled through the throat. They bled profusely, smearing pale skin red and slicking Tobirama's armor. 

_"Everyone keeps hurting me and you won't even help me learn to defend myself!"_

He wasn't going to lose his last brother to them.

Thick vines lunged from the dirt, wrapping around the Kaguya nin, dragging them to the ground and tightening around their necks, clenching closer and closer before slinging them across the battlefield and into the distant tree line.

The boy paused, nodding and lowering his sword. Suddenly, wood erupted by his feet, sweeping him upwards into the air. Water coated the branch and Tobirama slid along it using chakra to stay on top, skating across and following the wood as it wove across the battlefield, a large crescent curving up above Tobirama's head along one side, thick enough to block the projectiles flying towards him. More branches wrapped around the Kaguya still on their side, hurling them over the barrier that the branch Tobirama was on made. The branch reached directly beside Hashirama, letting Tobirama dismount and stand on Hashirama's right, the two of them the only thing between their clan members and that of the Kaguya. Tobirama drew his hand into a seal. Water from seemingly nowhere swirled around them, a large upside-down tornado-like funnel with them in the center, the bone-made weapons unable to cut through, sweeping up the nearest shinobi and sending them spinning in the tumultuous waves. More and more vines sprouted from the ground, snagging at arms and legs. Tobirama pushed his hand outwards, sending the massive column of water out to flood the battlefield, dragging the other shinobi beneath the large body of water just as large wood walls erupted from the dirt, surrounding the grounds and drawing their enemies closer, cutting them off from any escape that avoided the clan facing them. The enemy nin slammed against the wood walls before the vines that had wrapped around them shot down towards the ground, tying them to the bottom of the pool of water.

"Retreat!" Hashirama yelled, focusing on the dozens of vines continually snatching at flailing limbs and restraining them. The water was starting to lower and Tobirama's feet began to sway. "Just a little longer Tobirama."

"Yes Anija," his words slurred slightly. 

"Can you sense them Tobirama? Are they dead?" he hissed between gritted teeth. Another wall erupted in front of them, trapping the water and forming something bearing resemblance to a basin.

Tobirama faltered, dropping to his knees to press his hand against the ground. He closed his eyes, breath shaky, before giving a curt nod. "Yes Anija."

Hashirama sighed, releasing his jutsu and eyeing the retreating backs of his clansmen. When they'd reached far enough, he let himself fall to the ground in front of his brother, fingers brushing the deep cuts on his face and urging them to heal with steady green glowing hands. Once the skin had knitted itself back together, he turned his attention to Tobirama's leg, mending the damaged bones and tissues as best as he could before tearing a strap of fabric from his clothing and wrapping the injury securely. Kneeling in front of him, Hashirama carefully pulled the younger boy onto his back. "Told you we'd be unstoppable."

Tobirama grinned, slumping over to rest his head against Hashirama's, arms hugging tight even as he trembled from chakra exhaustion. "For a supposed God of Liars and Thieves, Anija, you're surprisingly honest."

Hashirama laughed. "And you've long since proven your worth, brother."

Feeling Tobirama smile against him before listing off to sleep, Hashirama idly made his way across the battlefield, letting a vine curl along the pieces of broken happuri and tuck it into his weapons pouch. If this win had been possible, even with the injury and small army, then there was no one who could take peace from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think or if you too have any sort-of prompt/suggestion lol 
> 
> Stay safe everyone <3


	4. Can We Measure This Love (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 3 for the requests by @The_Archiver and another one that @MadMothMadame had been kind enough to help me through!
> 
> Warnings for a fairly graphic injury and mistreatment of a child

The first time Hashirama had to protect Tobirama, he'd been too young to realize fully what was going on, only that no one would protect the younger boy except him.

Sweat slicked his skin, sticky like the blood on his knuckles and tops of his feet. Still, Hashirama struck the wooden training post again and again, harder, until he could feel the bone beneath his skin start to crack. His youngest brother, Kawarama, spent the whole night screaming, which meant he hadn't been able to sleep and then his mother had pulled him from bed to do his cousin's chores as, apparently, Fuuyu was too injures from their spar the day before to do them himself. With that and his own chores he'd been late to training and had to do extra laps around the compound. So today's been, for lack of better words, horribly, unfairly crappy.

The sound of laughter had him pause and Hashirama turned to the far end of the field where a small group of adults and many other kids were gathered. He scowled. Of course they had free time. They weren't the Clan Head's children. He turned back to his post just as his dad came storming towards him.

"Father?" Hashirama asked, watching surprised as the older man stomped past him.

"Hizashi! Where is my son?" Butsuma roared.

Blanching, Hashirama scrambled after his father. The clan had held a particular dislike to Tobirama, even Hashirama could tell that, constantly whispering and shunning the three year old, hands quick to strike the moment Butsuma's eyes were looking away and mouths quicker still to come up with lies to justify the mistreatment. The two brunette's pushed through the crowd and froze. Crumpled on the ground, blood trickling from his nose and coloring his hair pink, lay a quivering Tobirama. Tears streamed through the dirt that coated his face, smearing across bruises that made his lips and eye swollen and puffy. The younger boy looked up, catching their eyes.

"Daddy?" He whimpered. His body shook as he began to sob. "Daddy!"

Butsuma was shaking, rage making his chakra lash out violently. "What is the meaning of this Hizashi?"

The other man, an ugly piece of work with a jagged scar that stretched from ear to the base of his chin, smirked, shrugging carelessly. "Training."

"Train—"

"Unless your son is too good for that Butsuma-sama?" An Elder, Yuuhi if Hashirama remembered right, asked primly, her knobbly hands tapping idly on the top of her walking stick. "We understand if you believe him unable but the clan cannot afford providing for someone who will only grow to be a liability."

Hashirama wanted to beat her with that stick then ask her if she too wasn't a burden they needn't bear.

But Butsuma said nothing, instead looking back at Hizashi and giving a short nod, before briskly turning on his heel and retreating back to the house.

The man grinned, a cruel stretch of lips revealing too many teeth, and, in the same movement, drove his foot into Tobirama's gut. 

Tobirama cried out, curling further into himself as the kicks rained down on him. "Anija! Anija!"

The laughter erupted anew. "Will you hide behind your brother, demon?"

Hashirama screamed, lunging. "Leave him alone!"

Hands grabbed him, yanking him back and onto the ground, pressing his thrashing limbs down.

Tobirama cried louder.

"Let go! Let go of him!" Hashirama was howling, wrenching himself violently to escape their hands but their grips held firm.

Suddenly Tobirama grabbed Hizashi's leg, and hands clutching a discarded kunai, the dull one that Hashirama made him walk around with, buried the blade as much as he could into the man's leg. Hashirama eased, something like mirth bubbling up inside him as he watched the man shriek and fall to the floor, the crowd falling silent and tense, no more awful laughter slipping past their lips. That showed him. All of them.

The man yanked the blade from his skin, pushing himself up angrily. 

"You little _brat_!" He hissed, stalking over. "I'll teach you to fight back."

And then he was slamming Tobirama's face into the dirt, holding it down with his foot, grinding his heel down even as the little boy struggled, blunt nails digging feebly into Hizashi's leg. "Go on," he taunted. "Hit back, demon. Hit me now."

Rage— sick, tumultuous fury ripped from Hashirama's chest in a horrible, inhuman scream. A branch tore from the ground, burying deep into Hizashi's belly, sending him careening across the ground before impaling itself into another tree, letting Hizashi hang from the thick tendril bonelessly, like wet cloth on a clothesline.

The hands released him and he walked forward, gently pulling his little brother into his arms. He turned, meeting the wide gazed of his clansmen with a hard glare. And then he smiled. "Tobi's not ready for training yet. Give him some time."

With that he carefully maneuvered around the crowd and took his brother inside.

———————————————————

And while the clan had been careful not to hurt Tobirama around him afterwards, Tobirama had since become careless with his own well-being. Especially in the name of "science".

Which is why he didn't trust Tobirama's word on _anything_ regarding himself.

Hashirama wrung his hands as he paced back and forth, eyes darting to look from Tobirama to his wife. "Mito, do you truly think this is a good idea? I'm not going to ask Tobi. He thinks everything in the name of science is a good idea. So do you think it's a good idea?"

Mito traced the symbol carved into Tobirama's kunai, biting back a smirk at her brother-in-law's affronted expression. "We went over the sealing together. It should be sound, Husband, but I cannot promise you anything. This is the first seal I've ever seen made, let alone worked on, with the intent to bend time and space."

"It is a _necessity_ Anija. Izuna has always been stronger than me and as his visual prowess grows, I find myself growing more unable to keep up. It is either risk this or risk dying at his hand and letting our clan fall with me." Tobirama seemed to be struggling with the urge not to choke his brother, fingers clenching and unclenching almost rhythmically.

"I don't think it's that serious!" Hashirama squawked, eyeing Tobirama's hands with equal parts concern and fear, flapping his own hands as if to subdue him from a distance. "I'm here and Mito—"

" _You_ have to deal with Madara and Mito, the Elders that still doubt her skill and ability! There will be no chance for you to manage Madara and Izuna and an even lesser possibility for anyone to help you. Enough Anija, we have no time to waste," Tobirama snapped.

Hashirama opened his mouth to protest, searching his brother's face anxiously. Not finding what he was looking for, he closed his eyes, sighing heavily. "Fine."

Tobirama nodded curtly. "Thank you Anija. Prepare yourself."

The older man readied himself into a fighting stance, snatching a kunai from his holster. He didn't need a weapon to beat Tobirama but he also didn't want to attack his brother with jutsu. After all these years of fighting Madara, he'd grown more accustomed to devastating attacks rather than ones that would be easier for Tobirama to handle. Not that he'd tell his younger brother that. Tobirama would find a way to rip his head off. Or at least his hair. Hashirama shuddered. The last time that happened, he'd been stuck with that godawful bowl cut hairstyle for _months_.

"Pay attention Anija! I can see you getting distracted!" Tobirama scolded, hurling a volley of kunai at him.

Hashirama yelped, hastily ducking his head to the side and batting away the few blades he couldn't avoid, absently listening the kunai thwack against the trees behind him even as he stared wide-eyed at the space where his brother had been standing.

Tobirama had disappeared. Not shunshin nor through any replacement jutsu. He'd vanished into thin air.

A thud. Suddenly a scream rang out. The smell of iron clouded the air and Hashirama shivered, the feeling of like ice-cold fingers tracing down his spine gripping him and making his muscles tight. He turned around slowly.

Curled on the ground, only a few feet from the line of trees was Tobirama. Except, except his side was torn as if someone had taken a blade and sliced off the skin. Blood gushed from the wound, spurting and spattering across the ground. With a pained groan, Tobirama untied his obi, choking on his breath as he opened his yukata shirt, slowly peeling the ripped material from a long cut stretching across his torso from his right shoulder to the opposite hip. The gash was deep enough that Hashirama could see the white of Tobirama's ribs peeking through, the pink pulsing of his lungs breathing erratically beneath split flesh.

"A-a-anija. A-anija," Tobirama gasped, a gurgling noise bubbling out from his throat. The red liquid spilled over his lips and Tobirama keened, keeling over with a gagged cry of pain, dribbling blood onto the ground. _"A-anija."_

"Hashirama!" Mito cried, dropping to her knees beside Tobirama and pressing a cloth firmly to the wound on his chest, the material quickly growing soppy with blood. "Husband, please, get ahold of yourself!"

With a ragged cry, Hashirama flung himself near his brother, hands glowing green. Mito dropped the cloth onto his lap. "I'll get supplies. Hurry Hashirama!"

He barely heard her. He forced his chakra into the pale flesh, rapidly suturing the tear on the fragile muscle lining Tobirama's lungs. Tobirama whimpered weakly— a faint breath of air seeming to get stuck in his throat— head bowing forward, and body listing to the side.

Hashirama rushed to rearrange himself, sitting facing Tobirama with one leg bent behind Tobirama's back and the other out to the side, parallel to direction Tobirama was facing. Carefully, Hashirama eased his brother to lean against him, one arm cradling around him to heal his side and the other still working at the jagged laceration on his chest.

"O-one f-failed trial. I w-wonder what went w-wrong," Tobirama wheezed, shaking as hacking coughs racked his frame, each breath expelling more and more blood that had entered his lungs. 

"Don't talk. You can figure that out later," Hashirama said.

"Y-you'll let me?" Tobirama's eyes had been falling close but he reopened them, peering up at his brother with hazily curious eyes.

"I rather you test this with me where I can heal you rather than have you lost to Izuna's hand," he muttered fiercely. "You're too stubborn to stop regardless."

Tobirama huffed a feeble laugh, wincing as blood spat past his lips onto Hashirama's clothes. "True."

His eyes drifted to the edge of the field. "An-anija."

Hashirama glanced over, following where Tobirama was looking. Mito was returning, nearing the edge of the field with two medic-nin, Annaisha and Daisuke, beside her. Catching Hashirama's eyes, she raised the supply kit in her hands, gesturing towards their home. Hashirama nodded.

"Rest easy, Tobi. Anija's here. I have you," Hashirama pressed a chaste kiss to his brother's clammy forehead, fingers of one hand reaching up quickly to jab against a pressure point and knock Tobirama into unconsciousness. With his brother asleep and unable to feel the pain, Hashirama began focusing his chakra stronger, watching the skin knit itself at an increasingly rapid pace. Once the major damage had been taken care of, he drew Tobirama into his arms, shunshinning across the field to their home.

"I need a thin needle and a catheter," Hashirama ordered as he swept by the medic nin. Summoning a wood clone, he carried Tobirama into the younger man's room, letting his clone change the sheets of the futon to settle Tobirama upon. "As well as an antiseptic and bandages."

"Yes, Clan Head-sama."

In the meantime, he positioned Tobirama so he sat upright, hands braced over a little wood table Hashirama sat over his lap so as to keep his chest open rather than hunched in, other Mokuton structures springing up to support Tobirama's body. Removing Tobirama's shirt proved more difficult than expected, the cloth sticking to the blood, tiny fibers clinging to the wounds and threatening to pull on them. Still, he worked at it, cutting into the fabric and picking at each small portion until it had been safely separated from the injuries and then completely off altogether. By the time the others returned, it was standard procedure: washed hands and sanitized skin, hair tied up and out of the way. Within minutes, he'd had the needle inserted through Tobirama's back into the now healed walls of his lungs, pressing the catheter in and removing the needle so the tube could steadily and carefully drain the excess blood from the cavity. That taken care of, he and other nin quickly took care of his brother's wounds, Annaisha helping him heal them the best they could before bandaging them up and Daisuke using suiton to guide the blood in Tobirama's lungs out into the tube. Usually, a procedure like this would've required a conscious patient so that their breathing could be monitored and the fluid properly expelled but ninjutsu had a wonderful way of allowing others to manipulate around that. Before Annaisha and he had finished with the lacerations, the nin had removed the catheter and wiped the area with the antiseptic, pasting a little bandage over the mark. Redressing and resettling his brother comfortably, all they had to do was let him rest.

———————————————————

"Anija, no."

"Anija yes because Tobirama isn't going to argue. He's going to eat his soup and listen to his elder brother's wisdom before he gets his lab torn down." Hashirama smiled pleasantly. "And wouldn't that be a shame, Tobirama?"

Usually, Hashirama did not like reverting to such subterfuge but his foolish, heart attack-inducing little brother decided he was too good for bed rest and snuck off to work in his lab. On dangerous projects. As if he hadn't just torn himself apart just that morning.

Tobirama scowled, looking away, glaring at the Mokuton branches keeping him strapped to his futon. "You don't have to get so riled up Anija."

Hashirama hummed, still smiling, blowing on the soup gently before turning Tobirama back towards him and shoving the spoon into his mouth.

He was long past riled up.

"Anija!" The younger man sputtered, swallowing quickly as Hashirama forced another spoonful into his mouth. "Stop—"

"Wow Tobi, you really must like this soup since you keep opening your mouth to argue!" Hashirama quipped, plopping more soup down the younger man's throat. It was unfair perhaps, to make Tobirama eat his most hated soup on top of all the threats— the younger man absolutely despised the weird mix of raw, bitter, chunky vegetables thrown together in a broth that's only difference from water was it's salt content that their father had declared soup some years ago when trying to improve his cooking skills— but alas, Tobirama had chosen not to cooperate. It wasn't like it was unhealthy for him. Just disgusting. Besides, Hashirama couldn't exactly _reward_ Tobi's rebellious and reckless behavior by making him something nice, now could he?

Tobirama's fingers twitched, brows furrowing when nothing happened.

Hashirama grinned. "Aren't Mito's chakra suppressing seals amazing, Tobi? You can't even feel your chakra being blocked. _And_ they're hidden. She's told me to let her know if you try anything else— apparently she's a whole arsenal that she believes would be...fitting to deal with this situation."

It took great effort not to laugh at the visible despair on his brother's face.

"It's okay! They won't be on for long. I think a week, maybe two, of bed rest would do you good."

Oh, the look of abject horror was even better. Hashirama cackled. "We're going to have so much fun Tobi! No work, no war. Just you and me bonding while you heal."

"Hiraishin no giri! ...Damn it."

"Here comes the soup~!"

———————————————————

"Idiot! That's not how you fill that out!" Tobirama barked. "How do you sign your own name wrong, Anija?"

Hashirama whined. He really did not want to be doing paperwork but Tobirama refused to settle otherwise, cleverly calling for his students through the window of his room and setting them on the course of menace until Hashirama appeased him. It took a doton cracking apart their only training field, a katon setting three Elders' houses ablaze, and a suiton flooding the market area for Hashirama to budge.

Even threats of more soup and to his lab didn't faze Tobirama because he had his students _seal it off_ with some failsafe jutsu that would essentially reverse-summon the damn building to his snow leopards' domain.

Moping pitifully, Hashirama flopped over Tobirama's legs and began redoing the form. It was going to be an unnecessarily long day.

———————————————————

Mito peered into the room, smiling gently at her husband and brother-in-law. The two men were asleep on the futon, Tobirama finally unbound and sprawled out by Hashirama's side, face pressed into the brunette's shoulder and the fur collar he made Hashirama lay under that he loved so much. Tobirama had finally stopped struggling and let Hashirama worry and fuss over him to his heart's content as long as their work was still being completed diligently.

She closed the door, heading to the room she shared with her husband, resigning herself to a few days of having to bed only to herself. She supposed it was something to get used to; they weren't done testing the hiraishin after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone reading my other works, I apologize for the delay, they will take some time and even I'm not too pleased with that but alas, I hope to deliver a story well worth reading :)
> 
> Let me know what you think or what other type scenes you'd like to see in this work! I quite enjoyed writing these little snippets so I'm eager for others :D
> 
> Stay safe and well, guys! Times are tough so don't forget to take care of yourself and find some time in your day to escape from all the stress.


	5. Can We Measure This Love (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Implied child abuse, injury

Tobirama couldn't count the ways his brother was too good for him, he just knew there were too many. And now he's gone and ruined everything. Logically he knew he made the right choice, it had to be Izuna because if he were the one to be injured or to have died, that was it. Madara and Izuna would be against Hashirama and Touka— Hashirama who was too kind to really stand against his old friend and Touka who was strong but not quite strong enough, able to keep Hikaku abated but not Izuna and definitely not them together. They'd be slaughtered. So yes, he knew he made the only practical choice but still he couldn't swallow down his guilt with the deep draw of _"it had to be done"_ as he had always done. He'd hoped, of course, weighed the options and outcomes and placed his bet in that Madara's love for his brother would trump the cry for war by the clan, forcing the Uchihas' hand into peace by honor but he hadn't factored in how much Izuna's hate for the Senju would claw at Madara's need to keep him appeased.

Izuna wouldn't last the night. Tobirama was sure of it. He could fill his mind with falsities, lie and tell himself that Izuna's will and stubbornness would see him through but Tobirama knew better. He'd struck fatally for a reason. And now they wouldn't have peace.

His brother's lifelong dream snatched away by his own hands, cruelly as he'd ever been accused of.

He truly was a demon.

Tobirama could feel his brother's chakra darken worryingly with frustration, the growing ire the man was feeling nearly overwhelming, frightening even, as Hashirama got steadily closer to where Tobirama was not-quite hiding in his room.

There wasn't anywhere to go.

He braced himself, letting his clothes fall back in place and straightening upwards from where he'd been hunched over in a poor attempt to alleviate the pain from his injuries, and nervously fixed his happuri— the only piece of his armor still on— despite the metal having been firmly in place since he'd gotten ready for battle hours before. The curl of dread weighed heavy, swirling from the pit of his stomach to his throat, like the urge to empty his belly of its contents but being unable to do so, making the feeling stick and choke him instead.

He hated disappointing his brother. It was one of the few ways to really hurt the man— showing Hashirama that his hopes were nothing, that his own little brother couldn't honor his one want.

The Elders had always said Tobirama would bring nothing but failure and destruction to their home. He just wished he hadn't been so quick to prove them right.

Hashirama burst into the room then, chakra blinding, suffocating, in his anger, hair flown back as if he were still on the battlefield. He scanned across the room, freezing when his eyes landed on Tobirama. His body began to tremble, muscles tight in his rage. He hadn't been this furious since the last violent spat he had had with their father, some 12 years ago.

"Tobirama!"

The older man strode forward, the wood cracking beneath his feet as his chakra continued to lash out, and Tobirama braced himself for the strike that was sure to come. Hashirama has never hit him outside a spar but after this, he'd deserve nothing less. His father would've thrashed him for less.

Only, only Anija was sure to hit harder and Tobirama hadn't really meant to make him so upset and—

Green glowing hands traced along his shoulders, easing pulled muscles, hovered over fractured ribs until they shifted back into place and reconnected. Tobirama gasped slightly, stumbling forward a bit as his brother gently tugged him into a hug and ran his hands along the length of his back and neck, soothing the cricks and bruises that lined along his spine.

"Anija?" The younger man pulled back a bit, confused, as he looked up to glance at his brother's face quickly. Wasn't Hashirama upset with him? He peeked briefly before turning to look at the wall above Hashirama's shoulder, too ashamed to hold his brother's gaze.

The glare in those dark brown eyes, the tight lines about the unusually unsmiling mouth were saying yes.

Tobirama swallowed harshly, trying to pull from his brother's grasp to no avail. Hashirama made a noise of disapproval, warning, snapping a brisk, "Do not test my patience, Tobirama!" when the younger man didn't cease his futile struggle. He held Tobirama still, raising a hand to cup Tobirama's face and forcing stubborn red eyes to meet his own. Tobirama could still feel the quiver of anger at every point his brother touched him.

Why was he holding back? Hashirama never held in his emotions, no matter how loud or ill-fitting they were, no matter how inappropriate or simple. Everything was a loud display.

"What were you _thinking_ Tobirama?" His voice had gone low, soft like the whistle of wind in a dead forest and just as unsettling.

Tobirama's didn't answer, couldn't, because nothing seemed good enough. Feeling his brother's fury mount he hastily blurted out the first words that came to mind. "I thought they would let you heal him but I couldn't take my chances Anija—"

"So you ignore your injuries? Madara and Izuna refused, that has nothing to do with you sitting here and leaving your own wounds untreated! What if they'd been more serious?"

Tobirama gaped. "Anija—"

Tears filled those dark eyes, spilling over to cut through the light layer of dirt still coating Hashirama's cheeks. "I was so worried when you didn't come to the infirmary. You know the rules! After a battle, you see the healers! What in the world has gotten into you that you choose _today_ of all days to be disobedient?"

Feeling suddenly meek, tobirama wished almost fervently to be able to turn away. _Just deliver what must be said like a mission report,_ he thought. Back straightening, he cleared his throat."I thought you wouldn't wish to see me."

Hashirama reeled back incredulously, looking for all the world that he was watching Tobirama sprout another head.

"Wish to not see you? Tobirama, I thought that you'd ripped yourself apart with that damned jutsu or that Izuna managed to strike you as well! I thought I'd be coming in and seeing you bleeding on the floor! Why would you even think that?"

Something like anger or frustration or perhaps just self-hatred bubbled up inside Tobirama, bitter at the naivety his brother thought he could hide behind. He was yelling before he could stop himself. "I ruined your dream! Izuna will most likely die, tonight if he even lasts that long, and Madara will never agree to peace! You've spent years—"

"Wanting nothing more than to keep you safe!" Hashirama yelled over him, grabbing Tobirama by the shoulders and shaking him a bit. "Nothing! I can't lose you, Tobirama! If you can't see that— if you think I wouldn't even value _your life—_ Kami, have I truly been such a terrible brother that you think so little of how much you mean to me?"

"What? No, Anija—!" Tobirama clasped onto his brother's elbows, trying to stop the shaking so he could gather his thoughts. "Would you stop that!"

"Not until you see sense!" Hashirama shook him a little harder, lips quirking slightly.

Tobirama snarled. "I'll _give_ you sense!"

Hashirama paused, blinking. "...What does that mean?"

The blank befuddlement on his brother's face was sure to mirror the one on his own. He sighed loudly. "I don't even know Anija. I just— I was so _sure—"_

"And Father thought I was foolish," Hashirama huffed, fondly and pained altogether. "Tobi, you are my strength and my only weakness. The reason I wake every morning and breathe even when there's nothing more that I want to do than to just stop. I don't know how or why Madara could refuse or if maybe they do have healers that are capable of healing Izuna but if I had to choose your life over anything else, I don't care how much you protest, I would always choose you Tobirama. Perhaps it is selfish, but that is one choice I would never give you."

"You cannot protect me forever Anija," Tobirama said softly, brushing away the tears that ran down his brother's face anew.

"Then I will die doing so."

"Idiot. The clan—"

"Is resilient. I am not," Hashirama covered Tobirama's mouth as the younger made to interrupt. "No Tobirama, enough. No more arguing. I don't want your logic or reasoning. They mean nothing to me. I do not know myself without you and I do not ever want to know. Your life is mine to treasure and protect. It has been since the day you were born. I had failed twice, lost brothers that I did not hold nearly as dear and that pain won't leave me. If I had to l-lose you...if I had to lose you, Tobirama, I would be better dead. I would rather it. Never doubt that. Never. I forbid you to even think otherwise."

Never had Tobirama heard his brother speak so fiercely, never felt his chakra burn so bright, more vehement than even that day at the river well over a decade ago. And he understood. He would not be more than a shell if he had to outlive his brother. For all that he wasn't particularly religious, he would chase his death in a slim streak of hope that he'd see his brother again, no matter how brutal, no matter the suffering he'd face beforehand. It would be pale in the face of a life lived without Hashirama, a life where he'd be alone and nothing, purposeless as he wasted away not knowing what to do with himself or even who or what he was without his brother.

"Are you done Anija? The clan—"

"They've been treated. All that is left is for us to sleep and wake in the morning."

"We don't know how the Uchiha are doing and what the outcome will be. I can check—"

"You can rest. As will I. We will handle everything as they come, not a moment sooner. I've worried enough today."

His brother must've read the look on his face because in one moment to the next, Tobirama found himself snatched up into his brother's arms and then tossed unceremoniously onto his bed, Hashirama falling over him not a moment later.

"Anija!" Tobirama grunted, squirming about unsuccessfully, pinned by his brother's weight.

"Sleep Tobirama." Hashirama grumbled our from where his face pressed into a pillow. He reached up blindly, pressing down on Tobirama's nose and smooshing his face around a bit much to Tobirama's displeasure before finally grabbing at Tobirama's happuri and pulling it off his face, letting it fall onto the bedside table with a soft laugh. He plucked up Tobirama's fur collar, dropping it where Tobirama could press his face into as he was wont to do. "I'll see you in the morning."

Accepting that he wouldn't be getting out until his brother allowed it, Tobirama shuffled as much as he could, tucking himself more comfortably against his brother, face burying in the fur, and let his eyes fall close, heavy as the day finally caught up with him.

"I love you, Tobi." Hashirama murmured.

"You too, Anija." A hand pinched his side. " _Ow_. Damn you! I love you too, idiot."

"Good."

With another huff of laughter, from both of them this time, the two brothers fell asleep, reassured that no matter what the world would bring, they were in it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize its easier coming up with prompts for the Senju brothers and I've a couple in the works but...Anyone have any for the Uchiha brothers? Or more for the Senju if you're like me and can't think of any
> 
> Hope you guys liked it and stay safe! :)


	6. Getting a Little Practical (Possibly Part 1?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy @The_Archiver here's your prank war. It was meant to be funnier but alas, you can see how this goes 
> 
> Hope it's good though!
> 
> Honestly, at this point I should find a way to add @MadMothMadame to this just for reading each of these snippets before I throw them out here

Kawarama peeked over the bushes. 

"Okay, he's distracted Itama. Do you have it?" He whispered, turning back to his little brother.

The dual-haired boy nodded, holding up the container of sticky syrup. "Yes Kawa-nii."

"Alright, let's go!"

The two boys darted along behind the tree line, keeping a distance from their other brother while circling around to approach the house outside of his eyesight. They waited until the boy was sent flying back by a particularly vicious kick from their sensei before slipping inside the house, feet padding silently as they tiptoed across the wood floor to enter their brother's room, silently shutting the door behind them.

Their brother's armor hung neatly on the stand, shining and the dents all smoothed out from hours spent fixing it by hand. Grinning, the two boys carefully pulled it down, turning it over so the inside where the metal would touch their clothing was bared.

"Do you have the brushes, Kawa-nii?"

The elder of the two nodded, pulling the brushes from his pocket and brandishing them like a sword. He handed one to the younger boy. "Here, you start Itama. I'll block the door."

Quickly Itama uncapped the container, dipping the brush in and began to lather the metal plates with the syrup. Kawarama crossed the room, quietly pulling their brother's small work table with them and lifting it up on two legs to balance against the door. The moment it made to open, the table would clatter down and cause a distraction so they could escape. The scarred boy raced back to his younger brother on soundless feet, dropping down and grabbing his brush to help coat the armor. They caught eyes and giggled.

"Do you think the mosquitoes would chase him?" Itama asked.

Kawarama laughed. "Then he'd be slapping himself all over and daddy and everyone will be so confused. Or maybe it'll just stick to him and he'll be stuck."

"And everyone will ask him why he smells sweet. Like a _girl."_

"Like a _geisha_!"

The boys laughed again, pressing their hands to their mouths to try and stifle it. Swallowing it down with ragged breaths, they quickly finished and put the armor back where it belonged, admiring their work for a moment.

"How do you think he'll react?"

Kawarama's lips twitched. "Like this."

The boy started waving and shaking his arms, flocking about the room, head thrown back and eyes closed as he fake sobbed. Itama curled over, laughing breathlessly, pressing his face into his brother's futon and Kawarama collapsed beside him, trembling horribly with his own helpless laughter.

"That's a rather accurate depiction of Anija."

Both boys froze, turning slowly to their older brother. Tobirama leaned against the window sill, arms crossed in disapproval. "However, that's only if the sticky armor doesn't effect him while he's fighting."

The younger two sobered quickly at that, looking at the armor and then to the ground guiltily. They hadn't meant, hadn't even thought, about how their prank could be harmful.

Tobirama approached them, crouching down and ruffling their hair. "It's okay. We'll clean it. Besides, it would be better to do something to his hair. That'll last longer."

Kawarama and Itama lit up at that, grinning wildly as they caught the mischievous smirk on Tobirama's lips.

They looked at each other and then the older boy, both clenching a hand into a fist. "Let's do it!"

———————————————————

Hashirama shrieked. His hand was stuck in his hair!

"Dad! Dad!" He yelled, stumbling from the bath with his towel barely clutched in his free hand to cover himself. " _Dad!"_

Butsuma burst through the front door, sword drawn and worry writ across his face. "Hashirama—!" He pulled the boy behind him, eyes watching the corridor for an enemy. "What's going on?"

"My hair!" Hashirama cried. Butsuma stiffened, turning to his son slowly.

"You're screaming...because of your _hair?"_ Something like anger rose in his tone. They were at war, for Sage's sake. His eldest should know better! "Hashirama—"

"My hand's stuck in it!" The boy wailed. Butsuma eyed his son carefully, reaching out to pull his hand from in front his face...and found that he could not.

The man blinked, pulling a little harder but to no avail. "What happened?"

"I don't _know,"_ Hashirama yanked his hand, hissing as he pulled his own hair harshly. Butsuma sighed. There was only one thing they could do. He steeled himself for his son's reaction. 

"Well, we will have to cut it. That doesn't warrant you screaming like that Hashirama!"

" _Cut it?"_ Hashirama's voice had hit a pitch that made Butsuma's ears hurt, sounding very much as though he were on the verge of sobbing and Butsuma panicked. As much as he tried to raise his sons to be war-hardened shinobi, he still wasn't fond of seeing tears in their eyes.

"Or maybe your mother has some trick! Or Tobirama's! They're better with this sort of thing than I am!" He said hastily, relied washing over him as the boy calmed. "Come then, let's get you dressed and see what they can do." 

They couldn't do anything. Ichika sighed. Her firstborn's hand was well and truly stuck. In the end they had to hold him down and give him an awful haircut, much like if they'd taken a bowl and put it over the boy's head before cutting the pieces that were left uncovered. From there, they had to use all manner of oils and soaps, even jutsus, to remove the hair stuck to Hashirama's fingers. The poor boy was in tears by the time they were done, patting at his much shorter hair mournfully.

From the corner of the room, she saw her younger son and his two brothers snickering behind their hands, biting their lips to stay quiet.

"Kawarama?" The boy froze, the other two falling silent beside him. "Do you know what happened to your Anija's hair?"

Something in her tone must have sounded angry because Yui's eldest, sweet little Tobirama, stepped forward, almost blocking the other two with his body. "I did it, Elder Mother."

"Did what, Tobirama?" Yui's voice was cold, promising swift retribution and punishment as she often was with her son.

The boy swallowed, looking up at his mother. "I poured the sticky syrup on Anija's hair while he was bathing, Mother."

"And _why_ would you do that?"

Tobirama shuffled slightly before catching himself, posture going rigid, his voice lowering to just a bit louder than a whisper. "Anija woke me up without good reason the other day— he wanted to show me a pretty flower he found. I told him I'd get him back."

Ichika blinked. Then she threw her head back and laughed. "Oh my, were you three _pranking_ him?"

The boy nodded, a little hope lighting in his eyes. Hashirama's jaw dropped. "My own brother— betrayal!"

Suddenly Butsuma was laughing too. Ichika pulled her eldest into her arms, gesturing to the other three to come closer and wrapping them up near her as well. "See Hashirama? This is why you need to pay attention to your surroundings. Otherwise" she pinched the other boys' cheeks in turn. "Your brothers will get you."

Hashirama squawked, tears long forgotten. "Ooooh I'll get you back! All of you. Especially _you_ , Tobi!"

Tobirama glanced at his mom, smiling something small as her stern expression softened now that Hashirama wasn't crying, and poked his tongue out at his brother. "You're on Anija! I've got Kawa and Itama on my side!"

The younger boys nodded solemnly.

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that!" Hashirama bellowed, jumping up.

His younger brothers turned and fled, shrieking laughter ringing through the house as Hashirama gave chase.

Ichika smiled at her husband and his other wife. "Who do you think will win this war? My bet is on Tobirama."

Butsuma laughed, shaking his head. "No way. Now that Hashirama knows, Tobira won't be able to keep up."

They looked to Yui, who shrugged, smiling the same sweet smile her son oft did, eyes watching where the boys disappeared. Her voice was soft when she spoke. "I think we did. Our sons have not been irreparably ruined by this war and, as long as that is true, we are the real winners."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why "Possibly Part 1"? Welllllll..... Hashirama needs some sort of redemption XD
> 
> For anyone reading my other fics, they are taking so much longer than expected to actually get up and running and I'm sorry about that. The inspiration and thoughts are not flowing but I will MAKE them...eventually. Hopefully soon.
> 
> Here's to hoping you're all well!!


	7. Can We Measure This Love (Alternate Ending)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @Derkow who has inspired a completely new tangent for me to follow :P
> 
> Is it getting tedious yet, to keep thanking @MadMothMadame for giving this read through and her lovely advice? Because it might just keep happening lol

"Hashirama-sama!" Someone was banging on the door. "Hashirama-sama!"

Hashirama blinked awake, groggily pulling away from his brother to stumble to the front door. Tobirama was right behind him, sword and happuri in hand and grabbing Hashirama's sword to shove into his hand. Wrenching the door open, Hashirama barely twisted to the side quickly enough to avoid getting a fist to the face. The shinobi pitched forward, feet giving way beneath him and he caught himself on Hashirama's sleeves.

Hashirama pulled the man upright. "Hitomi, what is it? What is the matter?"

The man floundered, mouth moving wordlessly. Fearful.

Tobirama dropped to a crouch impatiently, two fingers pressed to the ground, sensing, his happuri already in place. "The Uchiha—"

Hitomi trembled, shaking back into focus. "Uchiha Madara," he gasped. "He's at the gates. Uchiha—"

Hashirama needn't hear another word, dropping the man into a nearby chair before racing to the compound entrance. This couldn't be an attack, Madara wouldn't—

But Izuna could be dead and Hashirama was well aware enough to understand what that meant for his old friend. An attack wasn't likely, but a suicide mission? Yes, that was well within the realm of Madara's madness.

He drew his hands together, ready to incase the compound in the Mokuton. It wouldn't do too much but if he could save the civilians from getting caught in the crossfire—

"Anija, wait! Madara's not alone." Tobirama pulled his brother to a stop. "I don't believe he intends to attack us. Izuna and two others I do not recognize are with him, and only one of them has the chakra levels of a shinobi."

"Izuna?" Hashirama met his brother's eyes, something like hope bubbling up in his chest. "Do you think—"

"Possibly. However his chakra is weak. We must hurry."

Tobirama turned, barking for their clansmen to gather. With few words, he sent some to wake the elders and others to prepare a section of the infirmary. Biting into his thumb, Tobirama removed his happuri, tracing the seal hidden in the _vajjra_ with his blood. From it, he pulled a sealing scroll Hashirama knew the younger man kept stocked with basic medical supplies.

"Here, Anija. You will need this. I'll get the stretcher," Tobirama hastily pressed the scroll into his hands, disappearing in a flash of light. Hashirama scowled. That godforsaken _hiraishin_ again.

When had his brother even put one of his seals in the infirmary?

Hashirama shook the thoughts from his head, now was no time to think of lecturing his brother. Nodding to the others, he sprinted towards the gates, reassured they would keep pace.

Another flash of light just as he was opening the gates and Tobirama was beside him, stretcher rolled up in hand and hurriedly pushing it into the hands of two of the shinobi with them before redrawing his sword.

"I stuck a seal on you when I gave you the scroll Anija and I've one on the front of the compound doors," Tobirama explained quietly as Hashirama turned to meet Madara's gaze, not even needing to see the question on his brother's face to answer it. "I decided to use the one on you so that we present ourselves to the Uchiha as a united front."

Hashirama nodded, gripping onto his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "Let's go. Stay behind me."

"Hai."

There were two women with the Uchiha clan head, two with their sharingan active. A civilian Elder and healer perhaps. Madara's red eyes danced between Tobirama and him, Mangeykyo swirling rapidly, something like desperation wrought across the haggard lines in his too pale face. His eyes were puffy, swollen as if he'd been crying.

Izuna lay in his arms limply.

"Hashirama— " his voice cracked. He stumbled closer, graceless the way he had never been. "Hashirama—"

Madara fell to his knees, cradling his brother close, curling over his body.

"Madara-sama!" One of the women protested but the man just shook his head.

He pressed his face into Izuna's hair, sobbing. "Please, please— I, _please_. Save him. Save my brother."

But Hashirama couldn't waver. He hardened his heart even though his body screamed to lunge forwards and heal the young man. "Have you decided, my friend? A truce, peace, for the sake of our families?"

"We can discuss the details after Izuna has been healed. You needn't decide now. Accept a ceasefire until then," Tobirama interrupted, shooting his brother a hard look, a shadow of grief crossing his own face.

Hashirama wondered if he saw Itama where Izuna lay.

He watched the surprise he felt write itself across the Uchihas' faces and couldn't blame them. Sometimes he too forgot how much Tobirama hated war, hated being a shinobi growing up even as it became the only thing he knew. Hashirama could still see it; Tobirama's small body hunched over the water, scrubbing the blood from his hands until his own replaced his enemies' in a desperate bid to wash his hands clean.

Their father had broken him of the habit soon enough.

Madara's eyes shot up to Tobirama and he nodded, a touch frantically, inching closer on his knees. Blood dripped from his eyes, tracing his face like tears. "A ceasefire then. Please— he doesn't have long."

He held out his arms, trembling, Izuna's body out like an offering. " _Please_."

A man so proud shouldn't be made to beg.

"Of course. Madara—" Hashirama dropped beside his friend, gently easing the young man from Madara's grasp, soothing sounds and words slipping from his lips before he could think of them just to convince Madara to let go.

Within moments, they had Izuna (he was too pale, breath rattling through his body and making his muscles spasm. Weak, as if it wasn't just this morning he stood a threat against Tobirama's life) spread on the stretcher and the other Uchiha stripped of their weapons.

Madara was crouched beside them, eyes never leaving his brother. Hashirama winced, reaching for the fists Madara wound in his own hair.

"Hold his hand," Tobirama spoke abruptly, pushing Hashirama's hands down. "Madara-sama, hold Izuna's hand."

Madara jerked forward, clutching at Izuna's hands with both of his, tucking himself as close as he could without getting in the way.

"Breathe Madara-sama. Steady yourself the way you want Izuna-sama to breathe," Daisuke urged softly.

The older man nodded, gasping slightly and holding his breath in turns, struggling to gain control of the lungs that filled and emptied to his heart's beat.

"There you go. Just like that," Daisuke said. "Deep breaths."

The wound was bleeding through the thick gauze wrapped around it. Hashirama pulled a strip of cloth from the scroll, tying it tightly around the bandages. Wiping his hands with an alcohol wipe, he sorted through the other materials in the scroll, setting them on the stretcher beside the prone man.

"Daisuke, hold this," Hashirama handed a saline bag to the medic-nin, pressing the tubing into Izuna's vein. Grabbing on end of the stretcher, he and the other shinobi gently hoisted it into the air. He could sense the Senju behind him parting, making way as if to form a path from the gates to the building. "Come quickly. We need to get him to the infirmary. Careful now. Madara, you and your shinobi may follow Tobirama—"

"Our healer wishes to see the procedure, Senju-sama," the elderly lady interrupted, an edge of finality clipping her words.

"Fine. Be quick." He checked Izuna's pulse and chakra levels as they walked, frowning. "Madara— no, Tobirama, lend him your chakra."

"What— no, I can do it Hashirama!" Madara snapped, stumbling in his protest.

"Tobirama would be better able to maintain his and implement some healing while doing so until I can properly treat the damage." Hashirama glanced up, gaze falling on Madara's hesitant scowl, watching those sharingan eyes dance between Tobirama and Izuna, and shook his head sharply. "Be patient and trust me, my friend. I am trying to save your brother's life!"

Madara nodded curtly, letting go with one hand to grab Tobirama's wrist, pressing his thumb to the joint and moving to catch Tobirama's eye even as the younger flinched. A threat.

Hashirama swallowed his instincts. _Don't attack._ He tightened his grip on the stretcher. **_Don't attack._**

"I'm a sensor too," Madara muttered, squeezing once before guiding Tobirama to lay a glowing hand on Izuna's side. Tobirama nodded once before looking at Hashirama.

"It's infected, Anija."

"Begin disinfecting it. Daisuke—"

"There's blood in his lungs, Hashirama-sama."

Hashirama bit his lip. "Tobirama, never mind. Remove the blood. Daisuke, try healing his lungs."

The two men nodded, quickly working even as they kept pace. A tendril of blood swirled up from Izuna's lips, accumulating in a sphere over Tobirama's fingertips until his rasping breaths deepened, steadied, a little more.

Soon they were in the infirmary.

"Madara—" Hashirama began.

"No, no I need— don't put me out! Hashirama, I _can't—_ " Madara clung tighter to Izuna's hand, the trembling from before returning stronger. "I can't—"

"You can and you must," Tobirama straightened up. "My brother is the best healer in Fire Country. Trust him and Izuna's will."

"You—" Madara froze, snarling, faltering.

Tobirama tilted his chin and Hashirama could see the glaze of grief over his eyes, permanent since the day Kawarama died, hidden usually but—

"This war has spared no one, Madara-sama. Stand back lest it take Izuna too."

Madara swallowed harshly, jerking back. "Hashirama—"

He nodded. He wouldn't let his friend wait, hurt, for long.   
  


The sun was starting to peak, casting a glow across newly healed skin and the bloodstained tan of Hashirama's hands by the time he stepped out of the room. Madara's eyes snapped open, and he lurched upwards, darting around Hashirama.

Hashirama yawned, beaming as he moved out the way to lean against the wall. "Your brother will live, old friend."

Madara all but collapsed on his brother's legs, shaking as he pet gentle hands through Izuna's hair, whispering _thank you, thank you, thank you_ over and over again.

From the corner of his eye, Hashirama could see Tobirama leading the Uchiha healer outside, hear his murmurs of lodging. "I'll send some tea in, Anija."

He glanced at Madara, met grateful red eyes and grinned.

They may finally get their peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'll be honest, my other works are under serious reconstruction. Serious because my hands refuse to type those stories and my mind is off doing its own thing. Apologies all 
> 
> Anywho, hope you guys like the optimistic turn here! I'm loving the suggestions/prompts so I'd love to know what you'd like to see :D 
> 
> Hope you're all doing well and stay safe <3


	8. A Fire That Lights My Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @Derkow I hope this is what you were looking for!
> 
> Also, you know that face Madara makes in the anime when the stone can't make it to the other side of the river? The one at 0:27 in this video--> https://youtu.be/BXpBdsP0g7U 
> 
> Yeah, imagine that face on Izuna throughout this
> 
> Warning: I wrote this in one go, in maybe a bit over an hour. And guess what? I actually didn't bug @MadMothMadame to read it this time. Is it good? Maybe. Are there any mistakes? Haha you'll have to let me know XD

"Nii-san! Nii-san, wait!" Izuna snatched up a fishing pole and stumbled towards where his brother stood on the dirt path. He huffed, trying to catch his breath even as he held Madara in place by his sleeve. "I want to go with you!"

"You're a little young for hunting Izuna," Madara smiled kindly. "Maybe next time."

Izuna pouted, willing his eyes to well up with tears. His brother never liked to see him cry. It had to work. He sniffled hard. 

Madara sucked a breath between his teeth, "Oh no, don't cry Izu. Fine, I'll let come. But you have to listen, okay? I don't want you to get hurt."

The boy grinned, "I won't!"

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Careful Izuna. Watch me first, okay?" He whispered. 

"Yes Nii-san," Izuna whispered back, crouching behind him. 

Madara steadied his hands, breathing carefully as he took aim for the beast's heart. It was only a few meters away, he could make the shot without issue. He pulled the string back--

Madara shrieked, bow falling from his hands as his sleeve snapped forward to stick to the tree beside him, pinned beneath a sharp point. "Izuna! I said watch first," he snapped, turning his neck to glare at the younger boy, cherub face dropped in dismay and panic. 

"Oops?" 

The older boy sighed, knocking his head against the bark. The deer was long gone, as were the birds and probably any other creature in their vicinity, startled away by Madara's scream. They wouldn't be able to find dinner here. "Let's try something else."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boar was cornered, Madara leading it to where Izuna was waiting to deal the final blow, the pointed end of his spear mere inches from the vital points forcibly exposed by Madara's fire jutsus and strikes. In a single swooping stab, Izuna would need but a single move to pierce it through and all would be over.

Izuna just needed to take one more step and--

"AHH," Madara flung himself to the side, landing painfully into the bushes. 

Something thudded onto the ground not far behind him. " _Ow_."

"Izuna," Madara spat leaves out of his mouth, rubbing at the dirt clinging to his face. "Izuna, what just happened? You were supposed to run at the boar, not me!"

The little boy pouted, brushing at the dirt on his own face. "I know! It just...missed. But I  
almost got it-- see!" 

Izuna held up his spear proudly. "Look! I got a piece of its fur--" The boy faltered. 

Madara glanced at his yukata, from the gaping hole where a swathe of cloth was missing from under his arm to just above his hip, back to Izuna's spear, and scowled.

"Oops?"

Madara grumbled, pulling himself from the ground and brushing off before dragging his brother up beside him. "Let's try something else."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Madara yelped, falling down as his hair was tugged back. He should have rephrased what he said. It wasn't Izuna at risk of getting hurt.

"Nii-san wait! I think the hook is caught in your hair!"

The older boy stifled a mournful wail, slowly lowering himself to the pebbled ground so that Izuna could untangle the hook from his hair-- his now shorter hair since Izuna lobbed off a chunk while trying to fish with his blade-- for the fifth time in the hour that they had been trying to fish. 

"I think you'll need a new haircut, Nii-san. Your hair is a mess now, it's all uneven," Izuna hummed, tugging at the line that seemed to have wrapped around each strand of Madara's hair. Madara groaned. He had to cut his hair _last week_ because Izuna had accidentally set it on fire. If he had to cut it _again_ \--

He knew he shouldn't get angry but he could feel the annoyance in every inch of his body, taut and taunting with all the frustration he hadn't convinced himself to let go. 

It was bad enough he had to trudge back to the compound empty-handed with each of Izuna's mistakes. Worse when people could tell exactly what had gone wrong, laughing as Madara came home messier with every try and still no closer to teaching Izuna anything resembling decent hunting skills. Now with his hair getting caught in the crossfire, even their enemies would know something was wrong! It was his pride! The one thing known across clans as a symbol of his skill-- though it probably wasn't much as he thought seeing as his brother needn't even spar him to shear it off. 

Their father should've been the one to teach Izuna all of this. Not him. 

"Listen, Izuna--"

A sniffle and then Izuna was pressing his face to Madara's shoulder. "You were right Nii-san. I shouldn't have come. All I've done was mess everything up! I'm embarrassing you and myself and- and I can't even get the hook out this time!" 

Madara winced, guilt bubbling up in his throat. Pulling a kunai from where he'd strapped it to his ankle, he reached up-- steeling himself because hair grows back, he'll just grow it back-- and chopped another chunk of his hair, the hook and string falling with it. Dropping the kunai, he turned to face his little brother, the boy's pale skin blotchy and lined with tears. 

Tsukiya hadn't lost patience with him. He owed Izuna the same. 

Even if it was at the loss of his hair. 

He pulled Izuna into a hug. "It's okay Izu. You just need more practice."

"But I--"

"Everyone struggles and makes mistakes but if you've got someone who has your back, you'll learn to fix them. I have your back Izu."

Izuna smiled, a little wan but happier than a moment before. He hugged his brother tighter. "Thank you Nii-san."

He tugged Izuna's hair, much longer than his own now, and smiled softly. "Let's try something else."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Nii-san look! It worked! My trap worked!" Izuna cheered, hopping down from the tree and racing to where a large deer, bigger than the one from a few days ago, was caught between the wood and string setup he had arranged earlier. 

Madara dropped down beside him, grinning widely, even though he was still discreetly patting at his hair and clothes just to make sure they really were unharmed this time. He'd had his doubts-- when Izuna said he wanted to try waiting for the prey to come to him rather than give chase as was usually done, well Madara had nearly shrugged it off. It sounded ridiculous. A waste of time when a kill could be made swiftly. But he had been wrong. In close to the same amount of time as their past ventures, a mere two hours, Izuna had finally managed to capture something without hurting Madara. 

"Way to go Izu! I told you you could do it!"

The boy beamed, hand reaching to secure the trap. "I finally fixed my mistake."

Madara ruffled Izuna's hair. "Maybe I just fixed mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did it get sappy? Yes. Was I planning for it to? Nope but here we are
> 
> Honestly guys, I needed this. I needed something a little happy and mucho light-hearted because right now, there is a lot of sadness, pain, and frustration in the world. With a little more patience, a little more compassion and willingness to listen, we can spread the love and change the world. I don't want to get political or anything so please bear with me but I think it's important to remember, in the end, no matter what we think divides us, it's an illusion. We bleed the same and live on the same Earth. We are one and it's time we act like it
> 
> Anywho let me know what you guys think! And while I've an abundance of suggestions, I wouldn't deny more lol
> 
> Much love going your way ☮<3


	9. Sunshine on the Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this one wasn't a request but it seemed fitting
> 
> Don't mind if they're OOC but they haven't lived through a war in this au. I'm hoping you like it!
> 
> Also, many thanks to @MadMothMadame who let me leech some of her ideas and helped talk this one into fruition :D

"Anija, _no."_

Madara looked over the kitchen counter to where his boyfriend-- passive as he is-- actually sounded horrified, and cringed. His best friend (he really needed to rethink his life choices) was standing at the front door looking as if he had been well marinated in a rainbow.

Hashirama's scrubs were tie-dyed and a rainbow bandanna held back his long, brown hair. Two glittery rainbow-colored stickers— a peace sign and smiley face— marked each of his cheeks and his white shoes were dotted with rainbow hearts that matched his new rainbow shoelaces. A tie-dyed messenger bag was slung around his shoulders. Even the cord of his stethoscope was wrapped in rainbow tape.

"Aw come on Tobi! The hospital is taking part in the parade and I want you to go with me," Hashirama whined, grabbing onto Tobirama's arm to hug it close to his chest. "Look! I even have a sign! Show them Izuna!"

Izuna yawned, reaching over the back of the couch to pull out a large white poster board. 

"SUPPORT CREW FOR LGBT+ LIKE MY PRECIOUS LITTLE BROTHER (WHO I LOVE VERY, VERY MUCH) AND MY BEST FRIEND (WHO IS LIKE A BROTHER)!!!" was written across in rainbow glitter letters.   
  
"Even I'm going Snowflake," Izuna drawled, donning rainbow sunglasses. "So let's go."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why did I let you guys talk me into this? I have experiments to do," Tobirama groused, pouting beneath the rainbow-colored Hashirama had forced into his hands when he refused to wear anything but a small rainbow ribbon pinned to his shirt. "That I could do _inside_. In the air conditioning. Where I wouldn't be _burning_ under the sun. Instead, I watched Touka-nee dance atop some girl--"

"Whose number I scored, haha!" Touka crowed triumphantly. 

Tobirama ignored her, continuing, "--Mito verbally eviscerate some homophobes while getting other people to register to vote even though they should have done that already-- honestly where is their sense of civic duty?-- and Izuna give hair care tips like he was the next Jonathan Van Ness!"

Mito hummed around a cupcake she was nibbling on. "I'm surprised you know who that is."

"And, as if that's not enough, Anija looks ridiculous!"

Madara could understand the pain in Tobirama's voice. The man in question was leading the clinic's parade float-- a rather large, and only _slightly_ adorable teddy bear with a rainbow bandage pasted on its chest-- with rainbow pom-poms fluttering and lollipops flying out of his bag. Every few steps, he'd hurry out of the procession to hug someone watching the parade. 

"I remember my first Pride-- that's how I met Hashirama. I think he wore the same outift, actually," Mito smiled, licking the rainbow frosting from her fingertips with more grace than should be humanly possible before tossing away the wrapper and cleansing her hands with hand sanitizer. "The first straight man I met who didn't see my bisexuality as some sort of kink outlet."

"Wasn't I the only lesbian you've met that didn't think you were just experimenting?" Touka raised a brow. Mito paused, pondering, before nodding affirmative. "Huh, I guess us Senju really are the loving sort."

"Anija's literally throwing heart-shaped lollipops at people and sobbing all over them. What is there to make you think we _weren't_?" Tobirama asked incredulously, eyeing his weeping brother with something that resembled distaste. 

Madara could almost hear the lectures of appropriate behavior desperate to escape Tobirama's lips and tugged his grumpy boyfriend closer with a smirk. Kissing the younger man's cheek, he said, "He's only doing it because he loves you, you know."

Izuna snorted, pushing his Pride flag cape out of the way to throw an arm over Tobirama's shoulders. "And its not like anyone has to know you're related."

Hashirama spotted them that same moment, barreling out of line to throw his arms around Tobirama, nearly causing him to topple over. 

"This is my precious brother!" He announced, drawing much more attention than one would expect to get at a festival. Tobirama wilted, face flushing. 

"Anija--!" he hissed, trying in vain to pull away. 

"He's a physicist! Isn't he amazing?"

_"Anija--!"_

"You, your brother, your friend, whoever the hell it is, can go to hell!" A man shouted, storming through the parade and over to them. "I--"

"Need to reconsider what you're about to say?" Hashirama smiled sharply, standing upright so he met the man's eyes squarely. "You can drag me to hell yourself if that's how you feel but leave my brother out of this."

"And mine!" Izuna chimed in. "By the way, you know you can't put things together without knowing how to take them apart. And Hashirama, you're a doctor right?"

Hashirama casually cracked his knuckles. "I am a doctor."

Touka grinned. "So you know how to do that with _people_ then."

"Well--" That dangerously kind smile widened and Hashirama stepped closer. "Something like that sounds about right."

The man paled, stepping back. "I uh--"

Madara stepped up beside Hashirama, pulling up the sleeves of his hoodie (and yes, it was tie-dyed) so that his muscles flexed. "Need to get going? Yeah, you do that."

The man hurried away, head bowed down to avoid the glares he garnered. 

"Can you believe the nerve of that man?" Hashirama huffed, pulling Tobirama into a protective hug.

"Anija, Anija you don't need--"

"No I don't but I will. Your skin shouldn't be a prison. You can be you, you can be free and breathe and no one should take that from you." 

Nobody mentioned the glistening of Tobi's eyes (no one felt like dying when they were having so much fun) nor the way he hugged Hashirama a little tighter. 

"Same to you, Nii-san. You've always been my strength and I want you to remember I'm here to be yours too."

Madara swallowed. He knew it, of course, they were too close for him not to. But sometimes, sometimes he felt like he was being bothersome. He threw an arm around Izuna's shoulders with a grin. "I'll never forget, brat."

"Good," Izuna nicked a lollipop from Hashirama's bag. "Anyways, anyone want some of those colorful drinks?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride you guys! Don't worry if Tobirama seems judgmental, you know how he is-- he really wants to get back to his experiments lol. Pride events are a great time to be yourself, try new things, and register to vote if you haven't. It's all about having fun and loving yourself
> 
> Stay safe and remember, you are not alone. You are valid and loved <3
> 
> Organizations: http://religiousinstitute.org/resources/global-lgbtq-orgs/
> 
> Support Groups: https://www.childwelfare.gov/organizations/?CWIGFunctionsaction=rols:main.dspList&rolType=Custom&RS_ID=146&rList=ROL
> 
> I know many of these resources are based in the US and I welcome anyone to provide other resources in the links for others in other countries :)


	10. Can We Measure This Love (Alternat Ending Part 2)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @sleepysensei
> 
> I hope you really hope you like it! It’s uhhh something... 😅

"So you had tea and fell asleep. Just like that, in enemy territory?" Izuna hissed from his bed, glaring at his brother in disbelief. "Come on, Nii-san, tell me you weren't so foolish!"

"Stay quiet Izuna! We are still receiving their hospitality. Do not be so rude—"

"Rude? I'm worried. Tobirama— he's against this peace! Why would he help either you or me? Or any Uchiha for that matter?"

"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" A voice piped up. A dark haired girl pulled herself atop the window, grinning. "Tobirama-sama isn't against the peace like you thought."

"Yeah!" A little boy clambered up beside her, tiny legs kicking as he hauled himself onto the ledge. "He just didn't think you Uchiha would keep to it."

"And why is that?" Izuna sniffed, casting a furtive glance around.

"Because you are irrational," the girl huffed. "You get all emotional and crazy and Tobirama-sama said you've got to let go of your feelings if you want to move past them."

"And Uchiha don't do that." The boy shook his head, _disapprovingly_.

"Don't you have elsewhere to be?" Tobirama swept into the room, tea tray in hand. Izuna rolled his eyes. The Demon's raised eyebrow said more about how he felt than his inhumanely neutral tone did. "Your parents must be looking for you."

"But sensei—" the boy whined.

"We did all our chores," the girl continued.

"And we really, really want to practice our jutsu today!" Another child popped out behind the other two on the sill, tumbling headfirst into the room.

"Atsushi!" Quicker than Izuna could see- and he couldn't even turn his sharingan yet, he was too weak— the Demon had deposited the tray onto a table and shunshinned to the window, catching the young boy before his face could hit the hard wood. Gently, far more carefully than most would, the pale man set the boy back on his feet and smoothed back his hair. "You must be more careful."

"Sensei?"

Izuna swore internally. He slowly turned to look at his brother, swallowing back the urge to scream when he saw that familiar light of interest sparking in Madara's dark eyes. Gods, no. Not the Senju. Not his _rival._

"You teach your clan children, Tobirama?" Madara asked.

Izuna's head whipped to glare at his idiot brother who was apparently in _first name basis_ with the bane of the Uchiha and then to the man himself only to falter. Pale ears had pinked and Tobirama wasn't meeting their eyes— not like in battle, no. Like he were _shy_.

This couldn't be happening. How long had he been out again? A couple weeks? Maybe, maybe he didn't wake up. Maybe he died and went to some twisted hell.

"Yes. I was seen as a good fit as—"

"—You're able to use all ninjutsu releases, correct?" God, Izuna was going to be sick. Nii-san sounded _fond_. Like he was ballooning with amazement and warmth, chest swelled like a peacock the way he did when people praised Izuna.

The Demon's cheeks reddened, looking with slightly wider eyes at Madara. The Senju cleared his throat carefully. "Yes, that's correct. I didn't realize you had known."

"I noticed when the marketplace was damaged during our Elders' bickering. You were quick to repairs."

"Yes, well, the damage would've been worse had I delayed."

"I'm beginning to understand your reputation has been well-earned, though perhaps, incorrectly named—"

"I would really like to sleep now, if that's okay with you two!" Izuna nearly shrieked. This was bad. This was so bad. Nii-san was _flirting_. He was at the stage of whimsical, long-winded compliments. Which meant— oh no, oh no, _oh no_. This meant it was more than a physical attraction.

The Senju looked at him in concern. "Didn't you just wake not too long ago, Uchiha-san? If you are feeling fatigued, it could be an effect of your injury and forced recovery. If I may, I would like to check your vitals—"

"I would fucking well—" Izuna began, teeth grinding, only for Madara to slap a hand over his mouth.

"That'd be great, thank you!" Madara grinned. "Izuna doesn't like healers or hospitals so he's just a little irritable and grumpy."

Izuna wanted to rage. _Grumpy?_ How fucking dare his besotted bastard of a brother throw him under a wild boar like this? Who the fuck— Izuna smirked when Madara sprung away from him, and casually used his sleeve to wipe his tongue.

"Having my mouth covered also makes me irritable and grumpy. Who'd have guessed?" He drawled, then jerked back with a screech when Madara leapt forward, smearing the spit on his hand onto Izuna's face.

"Perhaps I should come back later?" The Demon interrupted, eyes lit with amusement.

Madara froze, pulling himself back upright. "You needn't do that! We're only—"

"I would appreciate it, yes," Izuna spoke at the same time, giving his brother a pointed look. He needed details, preferably _now_.

The older man seemed to deflate a little, pink spotting his cheeks. "Er, never mind then. Another time?"

The Senju laughed. "Yes. I suppose since you're both under my care, I would be seeing you another time. Good day Madara-sama, Uchiha-san. Come, you three. I want to see what you've been practicing."

And just like that, the Senju disappeared, all but gliding out the door....and taking Madara's eyes with him.

Izuna yanked at his brother's hair. "Stop drooling Nii-san. You can't even _see_ him anymore!"

"I- oh Izuna, bloodline and theory. Tea and science and, and a face so much like the moon that staring at his beauty takes my breath away—!"

Madara flopped onto the bed, grabbing Izuna's shoulders, shaking the younger man. _"He likes cats too."_

Izuna shoved his brother off, watching the older man turn back to the door with a dreamy look stuck onto his stupid face, and dropped his head into his hands with a long, woeful cry.

Peace was surely inevitable now. He only hoped not to lose any of his personal peace. 

He glanced at the dazed look on Madara’s face and grimaced. Nope. Never mind. That, too, was inevitable.


	11. Empty Skies and Full Moon Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Hashi/Mada guys....I don’t know if I’ll write more (we’ll see lol) but I thought I’d try my hand at it. 
> 
> For @AkayaUchiha

Tobirama turned away. He was tired of it, tired of seeing his Anija and Madara curl up together and forget the world. How many years has it been? How many times would he be forced to remember how replaceable he was? Tobirama could see it, the way Hashirama looked at him like he was looking through him yet when it came to Madara, it was like nothing else even existed.

He needed some air.

Without another word, he carefully removed himself from the living room, making half-hearted excuses as he stepped out into the cold air. The sting of the wind against his cheeks were enough to make his eyes tear up, that was all. Nothing more.

“Tobirama?”

The younger man swallowed back a curse. Of course Madara would follow him. He shouldn’t have even come to the function. He sipped his drink, not answering.

Madara sighed, stepping closer. “I understand why you hate me.”

Tobirama stiffened, stretching his senses to seek his brother. Was this some sort of test? But no, Hashirama was still in the living room.

Madara continued, “I don’t blame you. I know you don’t believe it when Hashirama says I haven’t replaced you, that I never could but it’s true, Tobirama. You’re his little brother, his last little brother. No one can mean more than that.”

Something, perhaps the sake, was making Tobirama’s throat and nose burn.

“Is there any way I could get you to give me a chance?” The older man’s voice was strained, as if he too felt as hurt as Tobirama did.

“I don’t want anything,” Tobirama could hear the tremble in voice and cursed himself. He was stronger than this. “I want for my brother to be happy and that is what he is with you, Uchiha.”

That awful crack in his voice gave him away, gave away over a decade of pain and feeling like no matter what he did, Tobirama would be nothing but a passing memory to a brother who always looked forward. Silent tears trickled down his face but he dare not wipe them so Madara could see.

“And yet, nothing makes him happier than you, Tobirama.” Madara stepped closer, resting a cautious hand on the pale man’s shoulder. “These weeks you’ve avoided him have been some of the worst in his life. He believes you to hate me and....and if that is true, we won’t continue our relation. Not if it’s so upsetting.”

The pain in the older man’s voice echoed in Tobirama’s own chest. He didn’t want that. Madara and his brother being separated wouldn’t bring his brother back to him.

“I don’t disapprove of your relationship. I—“ he swallowed harshly. “I just miss my brother. He is more yours than mine now.”

“That’s not true!” Strong hands spun him around. “Is that what you think, Tobi? I’ve replaced you?”

Hashirama was crying, thumbs coming up to shakily wipe away Tobirama’s tears. “Never, otouto. I could never. Madara owns my heart, that, that is true but Tobi—!”

He held Tobirama still, making sure he couldn’t pull away and run like he desperately wanted to. “Tobi, you are the reason I live. The reason I breathe and fight every day. This village, this dream, it was all for you. I didn’t think— I should’ve told you.”

Tobirama choked on a sob, brushing at his tears roughly. He’d been so foolish, blinded maybe, by his own self-esteem and fears. “I suppose, in that case, a welcome to the family is long overdue, Madara?”

The Uchiha grinned, almost fond. “Just my luck, two little brothers.”

“It’s not bad luck at all,” Hashirama beamed, laughing a little wetly.

“Not at all,” Madara agreed, patting Tobirama’s back.

“Group hug!” Hashirama cried, pulling both men closer to him.

“Anija, Anija, no! You’re getting tears in my hair,” Tobirama complained.

“I will never, ever let you feel this way again,” Hashirama promised, whispering against his brow.

“And, if he does, I’ll kick his ass,” Madara drawled. “I don’t let anyone hurt my little brothers.”

“You’re both idiots,” Tobirama huffed, albeit fondly. “Okay, I understand. I misjudged and made illogical choices. Let go now.”

“Tobi—“

“I love you too, Anija,” Tobirama pulled himself from their grips, smiling. “And I suppose you, too, Madara. Now I must save my sanity— overexposure to you two has put a worrying dent in it.”

With one last smile, Tobirama disappeared back inside, laughing as he was almost immediately ambushed by Mito and Izuna.

“What would I do without you?” Hashirama asked, pulling Madara closer.

“Lose your mind, drive Tobirama up a wall. Burn down the village somehow,” Madara listed. “Should I continue?”

Hashirama laughed, shaking his head, something a little sad weighing down his frame. “I would have lost Tobi before I even knew it.”

Madara cupped the other man’s face, bringing his forehead down to rest against his. “But you didn’t and you won’t. That’s all that matters.”

With a gentle press of lips, Hashirama kissed Madara, whispering his thank you’s beneath the light of the moon.

In the back of his mind, Hashirama couldn’t help but think, if he were the sky, he’d be empty without the sun or the moon. He could only say he was glad to have both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are they perhaps OOC? Maybe. Did I want to make it cute and healthy and show all relationships matter? Yes. 
> 
> Honestly, a big part of the reason I’m more MadaTobi than HashiMada is because the HashiMada fics I read either demonize Tobirama (Which, yeah I understand but I *adore* Tobi 😭💗) or are just so sad....so ta-da! Here’s to hoping it’s somewhat decent guys
> 
> Stay safe! 💕


	12. Art!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, guys, this awesome work was done by @KingSunWukong who turned a small idea into an actual picture! <3 10/10 recommend checking out his work: https://sunwukong-art.tumblr.com/
> 
> He also has work here on ao3, so if you like HashiMada, mosey on that way: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingSunWukong/works

This lovely character is an OC @KingSunWukong let me hash out so he could bring it to life. Why is it being posted here? Well, because this is the OC I pair Izuna with and she has all of Madara's unfettered approval. Why does she have Madara's approval? Well, that's for you to find out later :P


	13. Testing a Hypothesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lil (lot) angst, a lil humor
> 
> Thanks @amyrallis who helped me with this ages ago and I still took forever to finish

It shouldn't have been possible. It shouldn't. Anija was too strong— he survived Madara, he survived Kakuza— he was _too_ _strong._ And the Mokuton! The Mokuton allowed him to self-heal without use of iryo-jutsu but he was here. He was laying in a grave, too still, too cold, just too much of too many things he wasn't and Tobirama—

He just wanted his brother back.

There was so much he didn't get to say, so many things he didn't even think to say, and now the Village is looking at him like he has all the answers when he doesn't! He doesn't have anything anymore! He just—he just—

His hands were covered with blood, red-stained sacrifice he was sure no one would even notice, and trembling. What would Anija say? Would he be angry? Disgusted? Did he hate Tobirama, hate the failure to save him like all of Tobirama's failures to save their brothers?

"Edo Tensei!"

He watched the energy spread, covering the body and stretching it, darkening the skin and filling in flabbier arms with muscle. Hair lengthened and lightened to brown. He pressed the blade to its center, seal absorbing so the body would have the right personality and not just be a living carcass.

Dark eyes opened, the separation of sclera and pupil nonexistent and jarring, but Tobirama still felt his throat dry.

"Anija?" It scraped out of him like the whisper of leaves on pavement, broken and baring the very scraps of hope he still held onto. "Anija?"

"Tobirama?" Hashirama blinked rapidly, jerking upwards to grab the younger man by the shoulders. "Brother, did you die too?"

And even dead, Hashirama sounded pained, sounded like he couldn't bear the idea even though he himself was already gone.

"No Anija, I—" _I'm fine,_ he wanted to say but he wasn't. He was alone and confused and every moment felt like it wasn't real. Like he wasn't even breathing.

Hashirama looked around then, taking in Tobirama's lab— papers strewn about, seals littering across surfaces, the air stale and somehow feeling overused, before letting his eyes rest on the blood that spattered and clashed with the blue of Tobirama's armor.

"Edo Tensei," He breathed. "You used that damned jutsu! Tobi, I told you it wasn't safe!"

"I know!," Tobirama snapped, mind racking for some sensible excuse. Anything that'd somehow appropriately explain bringing someone back from the dead. "I know what you said but I was curious as with you gone our enemies may feel emboldened and—"

Hashirama brushed his thumbs along Tobirama's face, fingers catching tears Tobirama hadn't even noticed.

"I missed you too," his voice cracked. "So much."

And it felt like someone had cut his strings— Tobirama fell into his brother, body shaking with his sobs. It'd been so long— not since Itama passed and he thought he'd hurt as much as he ever could but he'd been so wrong. Nothing could match this. Suddenly Madara's insanity almost made sense— Tobirama wanted his brother back and, and he did it! He brought his brother back and that was something Madara could only dream of doing.

"I can't stay here," Hashirama whispered into his hair.

Tobirama's head snapped up, hands and bloodshot eyes latching onto his brother with a frenzied desperation. "Anija—"

Hashirama hugged him closer. "No Tobirama, spare me. You know I speak the truth."

Tobirama shook his head, felt his fingers wound tighter of their own accord.

"I was never one to be the rational one here Tobirama. You know why I cannot—"

"They want me to be Hokage!" Tobirama felt the words wrench away from him. "They want me to lead Konoha and—"

"And there is no one better. You have all the right traits— strength and wisdom, kindness and compassion, and a steady resolve should things not call for that. You can do it, Tobirama."

"I _failed_ you. This was your dream, you should be here—"

Hashirama pushed Tobirama upright, meeting his eyes with some emotion that felt too frantic and angry and soothing and loving to even begin to make sense. "You can't possibly think that Tobi! No, no, don't. My death— or _anyone_ else's— is not your fault. And I know you won't believe me but believe this, brother, I would not ever survive a world without you."

And he knew what Hashirama was talking about— knew he meant more than just their brothers. Meant every life now in Tobirama's hands that he did not want to have. Not when he couldn't do anything to stop this war on his doorstep and every order of his could be another death.

"Then how could you expect it of me?"

And Tobirama didn't bother to explain, knew Hashirama would understand. They both knew their places and abilities, from battle to the smallest of habits. Speaking of their differences, speaking of Hashirama's innate ability to lead, his role as Tobirama's biggest support and healer, let alone being the village's very core, would be nothing but redundant. 

"Because you're stronger," Hashirama said simply, smiling. "You turn your emotions to action and create things, make them better. People like Madara and I, we're quicker to destroy. You will bring Konoha its glory."

Tobirama went to shake his head, stilling when Hashirama's hands cupped his face and stopped the action. "No, no Tobirama. Believe me in this. I've been no surer of anything than I am in you. I've no greater faith than that I have in your abilities. You will be fine, brother, and one day— pray it's not anytime soon— we will meet again. I am watching and cheering you on every step of the way! Trust yourself, brother. You are not alone. Everything will be fine."

Hashirama wrinkled his nose. "And get out of your lab! Honestly, I should've torn it down when I could. How many days have you holed up in here? Have you even taken any time to eat or sleep properly?

Tobirama scowled. "Don't touch my lab!"

It was the only place he could ever get away and after Hashirama's death....He hadn't ( _couldn't have_ ) left his lab since his brother's funeral— something Hashirama should know had he been watching from the Pure Lands as he claimed. Besides the man shouldn't ask such stupid questions, especially when, given the absolute messy wreck the place was in, the answers were so _obvious._

"Didn't you just say you were watching from the Pure Lands," Tobirama snapped, crossing his arms.

"Well yes—"

"Then shouldn't you _know?"_

Hashirama looked away, eyes fixating on the plain wall, a nervous chuckle bubbling past his lips. "Right, yes. Of course. I was just seeing if you'd be honest. You hide so much about your health."

Tobirama scowled harder, shuffling a bit before straightening. "Well. What's it like?"

"What's what like?" Hashirama cocked his head. "Your health? Probably poor—"

"The Pure Lands, Anija! Why would I ask _you_ about my health? You've been _dead!"_

For the first time, the word fell apart his lips easily. But, for the first time since the event, his brother stood before him, seemingly hale and whole if not for the color of his sclera and the cracks in his skin.

It made more difference than Tobirama thought it would.

Enough so that he could fall back into his quick annoyance and exasperation with all things Anija related.

"Oh! Right. Yes. It's...nice! Very nice!" Hashirama babbled. "So nice."

Tobirama arched a brow. Lying had never been his brother's forte, no more than it had been Tobirama's. "Oh? Then tell me what it was like."

"Like?" Hashirama squeaked. "Nice! It was nice. And pretty. And uh—"

"Anija," he fixed his brother with a hard glare, features falling easily into an expression he felt he hadn't used in ages, and watched as his brother deflated, murmuring unintelligibly under his breath.

Tobirama froze. "What was that?"

"IsaidIdon'tremember," Hashirama rushed out, taking a step back.

 _"Anija._ You are testing my patience—"

"I don't remember," Hashirama wailed, burying his face into his hands. "I just remember dying and wa-la I'm in your lab!"

"Do you— do you realize how important this information could have been?"

Why had he mourn this idiot's death again? Tobirama was able to bypass all laws of nature and bring Hashirama _back_ from the dead and the fool couldn't even remember the place he'd been in! Tobirama snarled low in his throat, watching his brother backpedal quickly....

Right over a stack of scrolls Tobirama had laying on the floor and into the table strewn with weapons, falling through it and crashing to the ground.

With horrified eyes, Tobirama watched as the weapons spun into the air and came stabbing back down to impale Hashirama whose hands were too tied up in the mess to summon his jutsu. The blades sunk through and Hashirama screamed.

And screamed.

....And screamed.

"—Anija?" Tobirama moves closer. There wasn't any blood. "How are you still screaming?"

Hashirama paused, looking down at the blades driving through his flesh and hummed curiously. Sitting up, he began removing the blades, marveling at their still clean shine. "It doesn't hurt and— and I'm not bleeding! Oh wow, Tobi! What kind of jutsu is this?"

Tobirama looked to the blades, to the sealing wounds on his brother's body, and glanced at his clock. Carefully, with practiced casualness so as to not alert his brother, he approached the trap seal he laid. Stroking a finger across to activate it— and effectively trapping Hashirama who squawked in dismay— he murmured, "One that needs to be thoroughly tested."

Tobirama pulled his sword from the seal on his wrist, making note of his various poisons and other weaponry before turning back to his brother. For the first time in awhile, the younger Senju felt a grin pulling at his lips as he listened to his brother's whimpers and pleas. "Don't worry, Anija. This should be _fun_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could I maybe have other sad things in the works and wanted to ease you into it a bit? .....Maybe
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear what you think! Or if there are any mistakes. My brain has taken a break from that duty lol
> 
> Stay safe, everyone! <3


	14. Before You Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songfic based on Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi
> 
> Not going to lie, at some point I may have gone ahead and did my own thing rather than follow the song correctly.
> 
> Thanks to @ASchwartz33 for helping me be confident enough to post this
> 
> Warnings for Naruto typical violence

Things had been going well. Konoha was blossoming like fruit in trees, rich and lively and swelling in its prosperity.

Slow walks in the morning in early morning dew, quiet laughs the kind they never knew slipping into their conversations throughout the day, and welcomed warmth of home and belonging, easing to the coziness of night. Spars that led to kisses, arguments that fell to jokes and hugs-- little dreams, sweet moments of life. 

But while the fruit looked ripe, it perhaps stayed on the tree for too long.

Because reaching to pick it and peeling back its skin only exposed the rot growing on the inside, the small nibbles of still fresh fruit cloyed on the tongue, overly sweet and deceptive.

A lull, a draw, that only led to disappointment.

Like someone had opened his hand and made him let go.

**_I fell by the wayside like everyone else._ **

Madara was changing.

Hashirama wasn't sure what it was. He was sure the other man was...healing somewhat over the loss of Izuna, but now? Now every interaction was like facing Madara on the battlefield right after Izuna's death. Too much anger and pain and helplessness. Too much bitter resolve that was more a damning than anything. Every interaction felt like a good-bye, like Madara was leaving.

Hashirama couldn’t lose him again. 

"Maybe you should apologize, Tobirama," Hashirama suggested one day. Izuna was something like a haunting— never too far even when there should be no place further.

_ ("I see him, Hashirama. I hear his voice. All of this, this peace, it's a lie," Madara's voice trembled with unfamiliar weakness, broken as the dishes he held in his hand. "He hates me.") _

Hashirama saw the ghost of Izuna linger around in the shadows of Madara's eyes, the loss in his weight but the ever-heavier steps.....the glare when he looked at Tobirama.

"Izuna meant a lot to him and he feels this village is a mockery to his memory. Maybe if you—"

Tobirama paused, stilling for a barest of moments before turning back to his work. 

“I have nothing to apologize for.”

Hashirama knew that, said so, but “-Izuna was his brother.”

“His brother that would have killed me in an instant if he could? We were at war! ”

“That doesn’t make it easi-”

"Apologize for the war then? Is that what you want, Anija?" Tobirama looked up, finally facing Hashirama, but it was all wrong. Instead of understanding, the younger man’s face was cold and devoid of emotions, as still as his voice when he spoke. "Apologize like I had done something wrong?"

Anger flushed through Hashirama and he rose with his rage. "He's hurting, Tobirama! Stop being so stubborn!"

"All of us had lost to the war! Should we make everyone apologize for fighting, Anija?" And now Tobirama was lashing out, snarl marring his face and chakra storming around him.

"You don't understand!" Hashirama wrenched a hand through his hair, looking away from his brother. Heartless and cruel, just as father had made him. Something bitter crept up his throat and he spat, "You've never had a friend, you don't know what it's like to see them in pain and not be able to do anything! You  _ never  _ know what to do when anyone is in pain!"

The accusation hung heavy between them, the weight of two lost brothers and countless clansmen, and Tobirama’s chakra faltered, receded. He rose from his chair stiffly, packing his things almost mechanically. Hashirama reached for him, he hadn’t meant that, he wouldn’t, it wasn’t true--

But Tobirama was just out of reach. 

“Perhaps you’re the one with something to apologize for, Anija,” he spoke evenly-- that same damn stoic tone he used to use whenever he didn’t like what someone had to say-- red eyes boring into Hashirama’s. “That it was your brother who survived and not Madara’s.”

When Tobirama flickered away, Hashirama wasn’t sure who had gone further away from him-- Madara or his brother. Didn't know who was saying good-bye. 

All he knew was that he was the one being left behind. 

**_All I hear are the words that I needed to say_ **

**\---------------------------------**

**_Our every moment, I start to replace_ **

Marrying Mito was something of a beautiful mistake-- an action born out of need to the village, a necessary reinforcement as Madara slowly spiralled further into madness. 

It was a bitter affair-- too many fake smiles and fake laughs and eyes looking everywhere else but at the person they were marrying.

_ (“I must congratulate you,” Madara drawled. “You live a life of all your dreams.” _

_ It wasn’t true, Hashirama wanted to say. In a dream, he and Madara would have picnics on the mountain, they’d walk through the flowers and stress over the village business together. In a dream, Tobirama would smile and bite back all his bitter words.  _

_ “This is your dream--” Hashirama could hear the plea on his tongue, swallowing it when Madara scoffed.  _

_ “One only dreams if and when they sleep, Hashirama. My rest, my dreams, they died with my brother. But I am happy for you and your perfect wife.”) _

And perhaps she was perfect. But she wasn’t for him. Just as he wasn’t for her.

Hashirama didn’t love her, not the way he loved Madara, but he loved her nonetheless. Loved her like a friend, though he wished to love her differently, wished to love her with the passion he felt for wild hair and an even wilder laugh. The way she loved him but didn’t all the same (she whispered about a Temuri who didn’t care for women the way Mito cared for her, spoke of rejection and embarrassment and need for redemption through honor). 

It didn’t matter though, not really. Theirs was not a time for love and that helpless kind of happiness. Rather, it was a time for duty and pride, servitude to ideals and expectations. So that’s all they were-- honor-bound spouses who only had the shards of their broken hearts to give each other. 

They lay beside each other wishing for someone else. Laid beside each other and whispered apologies and confessions even though they knew those words were meant for different ears. 

The tears on their pillows vanished by morning just like all their dreams.

**_Time would heal but this won’t_ **

**_\-------------------------------------------_ **

**_Was there something I could’ve said to make your heart beat better?_ **

His conflict with Tobirama had not settled, let alone been resolved, when Madara approached him as a friend for the last time. Watching him then, standing in the shadows and lost in his delusions, unhearing, like Izuna’s fresh death had stewed too long in his hands, long gone infested. Hashirama could only hold his breath as the walls were built between them, desperate for the air that had left him. 

Danger, Madara said. Tobirama would be the downfall of the Uchiha. 

But that couldn’t be true. Hashirama knew Tobirama was hesitant to the Uchiha, still distrustful despite the peace terms between them (and who wouldn’t be after having spent a lifetime at war with them?), but would he really be a danger to the Uchiha? Hashirama didn’t want to think so-- Madara was  _ so sure _ though, positive that the Uchiha had no place in the village they had built together. A voice whispered that it wasn’t as though Tobirama hid his dislike, that he never once let Madara feel welcome and many followed in his path, quick to be scared and quicker to stay away. 

The whole village, even the other Uchiha had turned their backs on their leader. Hashirama had tried, had pleaded with them to see that the other man was his equal, had shared and still shares the same dreams of peace as he does but they would not listen. Instead they continued to flock to Hashirama and the work that began to flood his every waking moment was nothing if not a sign of trust that had to the Senju that they did not have towards the Uchiha.

Madara had been right. He really had no one. 

Not even Hashirama, with his too-bright smiles and over-bubbly personality, his love greater than all of that combined, had been enough.

_ (“What do you think of this?” Hashirama asked, showing off the little trinket in his hand to Madara. _

_ The other man wasn’t looking at him, eyes distant as he stared off towards the children playing tag not too far from them. One little boy with longer hair kept squealing, hanging onto an older boy’s arm, his laughing shrieks of “Nii-san” ringing out louder over and over as the older one spun him around.  _

_ Hashirama stepped closer, hand hovering over his friend’s shoulder. “Madara?”  _

_ Suddenly the little boy playing let go of his brother’s arm and tumbled to the ground with a cry. Blood smeared across his palms and he began to sob.  _

_ Madara startled, “Izuna.” _

_ He appeared by the child before the other kids circled around and carefully pulled him to his feet, pulling a napkin from his pocket to pat at the blood just as the boy’s brother seemed to catch himself.  _

_ “Stay away from him, Demon of the Uchiha,” the boy snapped, snatching his little brother away and standing between the child and Madara as if to protect him. “Tetsu, are you okay?” _

_ The little boy clutched his brother’s shirt, nodding. “Yes, Nii-san.” _

_ With one last nod and glare at Madara, the boy hurried to pick his little brother up and walk away.  _

_ As they got further away, Hashirama could hear the little boy’s gushing exuberantly, “Wow Nii-san! You’re so cool! You stood up to him like it was nothing, Nii-san! You’re so brave!” _

_ Like that day at the river when Izuna couldn’t stop his praises of Madara’s own strength and skill, awestruck the way only younger siblings could be.  _

_ And when those kids swarmed Tobirama, just having round the corner and still in his armor from a mission, curling their hands into his kimono and jabbering excitedly, it was like seeing Tobirama’s sword pierce through flesh. Like seeing bloodied skin and lips, and life drain as steadily as the trickles of red that dripped to the floor.  _

_ Like seeing Madara lose Izuna for the second time to the same man.) _

Hashirama found himself in the Uchiha compound, milling around almost lifelessly. He’d forgotten that Madara had gone, too caught up with the need to see his friend  _ (his love)  _ that he’d stepped into that empty home and swung the doors wide, voice faltering in the middle of the Uchiha’s name. There was no one there to answer. Nothing but dust on the floor, like the remnants of all he ever had.

The compound felt dull, muted, as if everyone was feeling his loss except, except for the training grounds. Shrieks rang out in the air, phoenix flames and bursts of water. A child, curly dark hair flopping about his head as he leapt around, ducked almost frantically, his sharingan whirling so quickly it blurred. 

White and blue darted around, kunai in hand, reaching, aiming--

_ Why wasn’t anyone stopping him? _

Hashirama cried out, yelling for Tobirama to stop but the man did not hear. 

Or maybe, maybe he chose not to. 

A wall sprang out of the ground, tearing through the ground between Tobirama and the Uchiha child, moments before Hashirama had landed beside his brother. Fury, sick and roiling, enough to make Hashirama tremble as he struggled to calm down, surged through him, and he slammed Tobirama against the wall. The kunai was embedded into the wood, right beside Tobirama’s head,  _ proof _ . It was proof--

“A child, Tobirama?” He snarled, hands shaking. “Have you really no conscience? No morals?”

Madara had been right. Tobirama would stop at nothing, would cross any and every boundary to get rid of the Uchiha. Madara had been right and Hashirama had been blind. Blind and stupid and--

“Sensei? Is this...is this part of training, Sensei?” the Uchiha boy peeked around the wall nervously. “Hokage-sama?”

The little boy disengaged his sharingan. “Was it because I wasn’t fast enough, Sensei? Were you going to hit me? I didn’t think you were but…”

Hashirama had gone painfully still. “Sensei?” he whispered. 

_ Oh no.  _

Something like betrayal had filled Tobirama’s eyes, making the pyrope pupils glisten, and Hashirama had to look away. 

Distantly and then loudly, like a buzz in his ears, the way memories often returned to you, Hashirama could hear the shrieks of others, the cries of ‘Demon’ that followed Tobirama throughout his childhood and youth, that still followed him in hushed whispers. Suddenly it felt like he was looking at a younger Tobirama-- a good foot or so shorter and staring up at him with shattered eyes, that newly made stern visage already crumpling as he tucked his face against Hashirama’s chest, shaking with silent sobs. 

_ (“Anija, Anija I don’t like blood,” he had whimpered then, pale and trembling and skin rubbed raw where he felt the blood had stained. “I’m not a monster. I don’t, I don’t like it, Anija.") _

His hands were still fisted in Tobirama’s collar, twisted with threat and anger when they once used to hold him close. Gently, the way everyone had treated every other child that wasn’t Tobirama. 

Tobirama laid his hand over Hashirama’s. “I’m not a monster,” he hissed, too soft for his student to hear, too hurt and broken for anyone but Hashirama to know.

As if Hashirama didn’t know.

_ (“Tobi?” Hashirama whispered, guilt-ridden with the cruel words he’d yelled earlier, peeking into what had once been Kawarama and Itama’s room. _

_ Sitting beneath the pale moonlight, arms wrapped around his knees, Tobirama sat up stiffly, clutching tighter to the fur in his hands. A gift that Kawarama and Itama begged Hashirama to use his mission money to get him, knowing how the material brought a gentle comfort for the brother they held so dear. Even in the dim lighting, Hashirama could make out the puffiness of Tobirama’s eyes, the stain of tears on his cheeks. The speckles of blood and bruises along his knuckles and tops of his feet.  _

_ Tobirama stayed silent for a long moment before turning his face away, tucking it more into the fur. “Go away.”  _

_ “Tobi--” Hashirama inched closer. He hadn’t seen his little brother cry in a long time, always too quick to hide and act like he hadn’t any emotion at all.  _

_ “Go away!” Tobirama snarled. “I don’t want you here right now!” _

_ “You have no-- Why are  _ **_you_ ** _ here?” Hashirama yelled, furious. Itama was surrounded and murdered like a wild animal and Tobirama didn’t shed a tear and now he’s upset? Over what? Hashirama disturbing him? _

_ “Go to your Uchiha friend! I don’t want you! I want my brothers! I want Itama and Kawa--” Tobirama choked, starting to sob again. “I--” _

_ Hashirama reeled back, the words striking like stab wounds until he couldn’t breathe without choking on his own pain. “I..I **am** your brother!”  _

_ Tobirama glared, curling up more around the fur collar. “What would you care for a monster?”) _

Hashirama couldn’t bring himself to let go. His hands looked wrong, scarred in places where it had been unblemished just a second ago, scarred and looking just like-- like that blasted Elder's. 

Breathing suddenly felt difficult.

“Tobirama--” his voice felt strangled and he clutched tighter, too horrified to stand on his own. 

The boy gripped his kunai so tight his hand shook with it, looking between the brothers with worry. 

“Sensei?” his voice cracked, fear pitching through like the cracking of glass.

Two other boys flocked beside him, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere, their own weapons drawn as they watched the two adults before them. Two-thirds of Team Tobirama but what-- how did the Uchiha fit in?

“Yes, Anija.  _ Sensei.  _ Meet the newest member of the second division of Team Tobirama, _ ” _ Tobirama glanced at the boy, a small smile crossing his lips--

(Indulgent, adoring, the smile he hadn’t given anyone since Itama passed and--)

“-- we’ll continue this later Kagami, Saru, Homura. Go get lunch, tell Ichiraku that I will pay him.”

The kids cheered, dashing off the training field and just barely out of sight when Tobirama brushed Hashirama’s hands off of him, dismissive as he too began walking away without another word.

“Tobi--”

“You do recall me discussing plans to expand my team, yes?”

And Hashirama did, he just, with everything that Madara had said-- he opened his mouth to explain but Tobirama waved him off, shaking his head. 

“I had forgotten that even you see me as a Demon, Anija. Tell me, would Madara return if I were gone? I suppose that would make you happier.”

_ Yes, _ Hashirama wanted to say. But he knew it wasn’t true. How could it be? Tobirama was his last brother, the one he had always been closest to. No one could replace him--

A wide, crooked smile and lively dark eyes came to his mind and his voice stopped before he could raise a protest. Tobirama had paused, waiting for his brother to refute him, and when none came, just scoffed (and Hashirama wasn’t deaf, not yet, he could hear the strain of held back tears even in that), whisking away before Hashirama could find his voice again.

**_It kills me how_ ** **_I_ ** **_make you feel so worthless_ **

**_\---------------------------------------------_ **

**_Was there something I could have said to make it all stop hurting?_ **

Madara was attacking the village. Madara was killing their people. Why? Why? Why? Hashirama didn’t understand. Was it because of that damned stone? Because the other man resented what Konoha represented-- dead brothers and unfulfilled promises-- or because, because Tobirama was here? Tobirama was here and fighting and Madara-- 

Madara would kill him.

Madara would kill him because Izuna was gone and it was all Tobirama’s fault. If he had just  _ apologized _ \-- 

But it didn’t matter. Not now. Not when Hashirama hadn’t even had a chance to apologize. Tobirama wouldn’t even look at him, stealing away to work before Hashirama woke-- a feat he had never managed before, not with his late nights and Hashirama’s habitual early rising-- and disappearing again before Hashirama even made it into the office, work completed as far away as he could be while still being available to everyone else. 

The smell of ash and dust, blood and torn earth clouded the air. All Hashirama could see was fire. All he could feel was the crackle of electricity in the air. Corpses littered the ground but Hashirama had to ignore it, pushing through to the beacon of burgundy and black, the glint of a kama and gunbai.

Their weapons met and crossed, sparks flying. 

“Madara, please. Stop this madness. We’ve surpassed this, we--” Hashirama cried out, Mokuton erupting from the ground to hold back his once-friend’s attack, rippling vines and wood tearing through the earth to separate the other shinobi from the Uchiha. 

“We have done nothing, Hashirama,” Madara snarled. “All of this is a lie and you are a fool to think otherwise!”

“That’s not true! Please--”

But the words were lost as Madara flicked through jutsus, forcing Hashirama to respond.

\-------------------------------------------

**_When you hurt under the surface_ **

When the dust had settled, chakra exhaustion sapping every last bit of energy from their bodies, and Madara had left with a final promise--

_ (“I will destroy this village, Hashirama. I will end all the shinobi.”) _

\-- Hashirama finally dragged himself back to assess the damage. Too many injured, too many dead and….

Tobirama lay in the hospital, nasty wounds littering across the pale flesh. One too many hits taken for shinobi Madara had accepted then forsaken. Still he sat up when he saw Hashirama, eyes searching, scanning for injury and discomfort. Bruised hands reached for Hashirama’s own, relief in the red of those eyes despite how close to death he had come to. 

It made Hashirama feel sick.

But what could he do? How could he turn his back on Madara, the one man who always understood him, who shared each and every dream of his before he lost his mind trying to explain it? Those months of solace, those true breaths of happiness, that taste of a childhood he could only imagine and, without Madara, it was all gone. 

How could he compare that to his last brother?

When the younger man looked at him, it was as if he knew. Saw something in those brown eyes that gave it all away.

Once again, Hashirama had chosen Madara over him. 

Tobirama turned away.

“I have come to realize that I do owe you an apology, Anija,” he announced, and something about his voice sounded wrong. 

He didn’t want to listen to this. Hashirama was sure he wouldn’t like what he heard but still-- “For what, Tobirama?”

“For not fulfilling my purpose,” Tobirama settled on the bed more comfortably, eyes fixed on the wall.

_ (“You’ve one purpose and one alone. Do you understand, Tobirama?” Elder Setsuna had snarled, pressing the boy against the wall because he’d been disobedient, had refused to follow through with his orders. _

_ “I can tell by their chakra, they weren’t shinobi--” _

_ The resounding hit sent Tobirama crashing to the ground, lip bloodied and face already purpling, the swell of it matching the fingerprints around the soft skin of his throat. _

_ “Weapons do as told,” Setsuna grabbed Tobirama’s hair-- the strands were longer then, easy to wrap about a fist-- and began dragging him away. “..and apparently you still need honing.” _

_ Tobirama reappeared not too long later, three lines cut into his face.  _

_ “I’ll be your weapon, Anija.” _

_ He had Hashirama chop his hair off then, refused to ever let it grow long again.) _

“And being your brother instead.”

Tobirama gestured to the healer, not even looking as they urged Hashirama out.

Looking back as he stepped through the door, Hashirama caught a glimpse of that fur collar before Tobirama curled around it and knew he’d made his brother cry.

**_I hate you, I hate you, I hate you/ But I was just kidding myself_ **

**\------------------------------------------**

**_Was never the right time whenever you called, went little by little, until there was nothing left at all_ **

Hashirama was tired. Tired of the fighting and trying to convince Madara to see sense and return. But he wouldn’t see anything but the darkness clouding his eyes.

For a moment, Hashirama humored the idea of not raising his sword, of letting Madara’s attack pierce through his chest and strike him down.

A moment was all he needed. 

A smaller, blue-armored back suddenly stood before him, bowing around something that glinted against the glare of the sun, and Hashirama watched as red beads dripped off the blade, the metal running through so deeply that the tip nearly reached Hashirama’s chest. Madara’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second-- guilt and triumph warring across his face until he finally settled for dissatisfied and shoved Tobirama back, letting the younger man fall to the ground, breathing raggedly. 

Catching Hashirama’s eyes, Madara sighed, almost nonchalantly. “A brother for a brother, Hashirama. We are equal once more.”

He flickered away, not even waiting for a response.

Tobirama lay, gasping, grief and acceptance playing over bloodied lips. He looked past Hashirama, skyward, smiling wanly. “Perhaps now-- peace.” 

Peace for who? The village? Madara and Hashirama? 

Hashirama swallowed. For Tobirama? Peace in getting away from the brother that didn’t value him as the other two had? 

Pale skin grew paler, paper white, as the blood pooled into the earthen ground, coloring the white of Tobirama’s hair and fur collar.

Was this peace? 

Tears slipped past the edge of Tobirama’s eye, cutting through the dust and flecks of blood on his cheeks. He coughed, wretched and wet, a desperate wheeze passing his lips even as he struggled to speak. “Idiot. Go after him.”

_ (“Training alone again, Anija?” Tobirama asked, the sparkle of hope that once lit his eyes fading as he observed the bounce in Hashirama’s step, the laxness of his stance. “Maybe next time, then.” _

_ He said it like he didn’t believe-- like a next time would never happen and it didn’t. Not after that. Not when Hashirama so adored his new friend, not when Tobirama led their father to the two boys and stole that friend away.  _

_ Spoke the same way even as he held Hashirama’s hands away from his wounds.) _

“Go. I’ll be fine,” he choked out, curling in on himself even as he shook with pain. “He’s still near, two minutes north.”

“And you, Tobirama? How near are you to me?” Hashirama asked, dropping to his knees and letting his hands glow green. “Do you intend to send me away so you can leave?”

“Anija--?” Tobirama’s eyes had widened and he clasped a desperate hand around Hashirama’s wrist. 

_ (“I don’t like the dark,” Tobirama murmured, cuddling close to Hashirama, the twist of his lips set in a mulish pout that could only be described as adorable for a child so young. _

_ “Nothing can hurt you, Tobi, not while I’m here.”) _

Hashirama held his brother closer. “I won’t let anything hurt you, Tobi.”

And like all those years ago, Tobi took a breath and relaxed, tired eyes brightening just so.

Hashirama let himself smile.

**_But all I can think about is seeing that look on your face_ ** _. _

\-------------------------------------

**_Would we be better off by now_ **

Madara had wanted to kill him. Cold and uncaring, tainted by his delusions and hatred and Hashirama had very well let him. Had almost let him just like he let the Uchiha attack the village again and again.

Tobirama had nearly been slain-- that clever mind and overly caring nature permanently locked away in the frozen abyss of death. 

Talking wasn’t saving anyone anymore. 

**_If I had let my walls come down_ **

“I can do it, Anija. Mito-nee and I, you won’t have to,” Tobirama whispered, grasping his brother’s shoulder. They had finally made amends, finally bridged the gap left by a boy with a personality larger than life itself. “He was your friend--”

And that desperation, that plea to be the one to hurt or get hurt, like the laying of planks to make a bridge, assured Hashirama that he was making the right choice. 

“And that’s why it must be me.”

**_Like troubled water running cold_ **

There was blood around him, on him, staining his sword and armor and soul. 

But even as it washed off, even as the body in his hands began to cool--

He knew there would be nothing that could make his heart beat better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted on We Stumbled Across Destiny because I couldn't decide where it really belonged
> 
> It was a hot mess writing this one-- so many rewrites, so much _time_ guys so I would love to hear what you think!
> 
> Stay safe!


	15. A Lesson in Propriety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen. I couldn’t make a whole ficlet of this that actually worked well but....it has been quite awhile since this got an update so. Hope you like it? I might come back and weave it better but until then....I warn you. Tis no masterpiece

Hashirama peeked around the tree, grinning when he saw the two boys by the river.

"Madara!" He bounded out, dragging a reluctant Tobirama behind him, meeting the other boy's curious gaze with one of his own. "Oh! Is that Izuna-chan?"

The younger boy scowled, putting his hands on his hips. "Don't call me that!" A pause. "But I am Izuna."

"That's Tobi?" Madara asked, trying to catch a glance at the boy hiding behind Hashirama. "You look so different from one another."

"Yeah! We have different moms. Anyways, come on, Tobi! Say hi!"

The younger boy took a breath, steeling himself, and stepped beside Hashirama, quickly ducking into a short bow."Hello, Madara-san, Izuna-san.I am Tobirama."He glanced pointedly at his brother and Madara."Not Tobi."

Izuna blinked.Looked at Hashirama to Tobirama to Madara."I like this one better.He doesn't seem as weird."

Hashirama’s wailing did nothing but cement Izuna’s point.

Tobirama sighed. “I apologize for all future stupidity on Anija’s behalf as well as any brain and hearing damage you may suffer as a result. Unfortunately you are not liable for compensation as this is solely your choice.”

Madara blinked. “Does that mean we’re still meeting every week?”

Two smacks rang out as the two younger brothers simultaneously face-palmed.

———————————————————

"You bastard!"Madara sputtered, flinging a rock at Hashirama's head.Suddenly a quick movement and Tobirama was between them, catching the stone and hurling it back at Madara, scolding the older boy even before it made contact.

"You can't speak to him that way!Anija is clan heir.He may be clan head in a few years time—"

Izuna darted beside his brother, crouching down next to him.He glared at Tobirama."So is nii-san!"

Madara yelped, floundering as he rubbed where the stone had bounced against his forehead and sent him back into the water Hashirama had pushed him in."Yeah, so am I!"

"Then you should lead by example and speak respectfully, as befitting of your status!"The white-haired boy crossed his arms, looking at Madara reproachfully."Have you Uchiha no sense of propriety?"

The Uchiha brothers stiffened, eyeing Tobirama warily.Madara stepped in front of Izuna, shielding his little brother."What are you talking about?We never said what clan we're from."

"Well it's obvious—" Tobirama began.Realization seemed to dawn on him a second too late."I mean—"

"Hashirama, what is this?"Madara's eyes swirled red— and he had to ignore Izuna’s gasp of “ _Nii-san_ ”, focusing instead on the boy he thought a friend— hands clenching into fists."A trap?"

"No!I wouldn't!I d-don't, I don't know!" Hashirama gaped at Tobirama."Tobi, how can you—?"

The red-eyed boy flinched, stepping back a little hesitantly, face reddening."They both have a fire affinity, Anija.And they look like Uchiha so I just assumed..."

"Are we supposed to believe that?" Izuna snapped."We didn't use any jutsu, how would you even know what our affinities are?!"

"I can sense them!"Tobirama spoke a little hastily, flustered in a subdued sort of panic, before turning to his brother."Remember Anija?Sensei said she'd teach me how!"

Hashirama paused."And you learned how to do that already?"

Tobirama frowned, lips pulling into something closer to a pout than a scowl."Already?I've been practicing for _months!_ How have you not noticed?"

"I—I..."

"Father's right.You need to work on your observational skills, Anija!That's the most important characteristic of being a shinobi.Even without sensing their chakra, they _look_ like Uchiha.No clan has features like that but them!" Tobirama waved an angry hand towards the two Uchiha."And this land is literally at the border of Uchiha lands.Who else would stand here?Hatake, Shimura, Sarutobi?"Something sarcastic colored the younger boy's voice."Oh, I know.Maybe it's the Nara.Maybe _they_ felt like walking all the way here to enemy land to play at the river once a week."Tobirama huffed."Honestly Anija, I'm disappointed."

Hashirama looked back and forth between his friend (the other boy now relaxing as he considered his own similar lack of rationality sheepishly) and brother rapidly, before settling on his brother.The awful neurosis seemed to hover over the brunette's head and he slumped down with a wail."Don't be so mean, Tobirama!I didn't know—"

"You are clan heir!You're supposed to know!"Tobirama snarled, looking like he might just lunge at his brother. 

"I take it that you are Senju then," Izuna called out.When neither Hashirama not Tobirama answered, he continued, voice growing sharp."I thought you might be.I've heard Senju Butsuma has a habit of naming his children with the suffix -ama."

The younger boy was a hair’s breadth from a fight, that same tension spreading through his body as he lowered himself into a combative stance. Mirroring him on the other side was Tobirama, fingers twitching towards his pocket where Madara knew from experience the boy hid kunai and other unpleasant weapons.

"That means we need to come to a decision: do we leave here as enemies or do we continue to treat this as neutral ground?"Madara asked, and it took effort to hide his feelings, to swallow it back like a proper clan heir. Friend or no friend, they were enemies by clan. He knew which option his father would prefer he take.

"We share a dream, Madara!I don't want to lose that or your friendship!"Hashirama cried."Can we ignore the conflict between our clans, if only to build towards a future peace?"

Izuna snarled."Our brothers were killed by Senju!"

"And ours by Uchiha!"Tobirama snapped. "This cycle of revenge would get us nowhere!The adults are idiots and if you want to be one, fine.I won't be one.If we want to stop all the fighting and dying then we need to come up with a truce and respect it!"

“So what, you want peace?” Izuna sneered incredulously.

“Obviously, you nitwit,” the Senju huffed out, much to Hashirama’s blubbering horror (“Tobi, you can’t call people that!”), that he promptly ignored. Tobirama tilted his nose to the air, that annoying pretentiousness making its appearance _again_. “If I fought you, it’d be because you’re being stupid, not because of your bloodline.”

"How old are you again?"Madara watched the younger boy curiously, even as that all too familiar fond exasperation coursed through him.

"Old enough to know when people are being stupid,"Tobirama said primly. He arched a brow as if to say to Madara, “like you.”

Madara laughed, far too amused to even feel the bite of insult, and rubbed a hand down his face. Really though, how had no one murdered this brat yet? "Alright then.Neutral ground?"He held his hand out to Hashirama.

The older boy beamed, ignoring the hand between them and throwing his arms around his friend instead."Yes!"

"Argh, get off!"Madara flailed, trying to yank himself out of Hashirama's grip.

"I'm so happy!"The other boy sobbed, holding tighter."Whoa!"

Suddenly the two boys pitched sideways, splashing back into the water, and coming up spluttering.

Madara grabbed Hashirama's head and pushed it back under the surface. "Bastard!"

 _"Again?"_

Madara never did see that wave coming.

—————

"Aren't you too young to be nagging about propriety?"Madara later interrupted Tobirama's lecturing, still wringing his hair dry with a pout.He couldn't decide if he was annoyed or amused with the younger boy's vehemence.

"Aren't you too old not to have any?"

Annoyed. Definitely annoyed.

Why the hell did he agree to neutral ground?

———————————————————

Izuna huffed."How is it our brothers are so ridiculously strong—

"— and so ridiculously _stupid?"_ Tobirama finished, scowling."They probably had to a lose a portion of their brain in favor of space for their chakra reserves."

"We'll have to warn the people of the village," Izuna sat up."Actually, we should just decree a joint leader position and you and I will do it."

"That might cause conflict with other clans, though.They might feel subjugated to our will rather than equals."

"...true.Okay, one position but neither of our brothers should be a choice for the position."

"But people would be drawn to their power—"

"Tobi!You're not helping!" Izuna twirled his hair around his finger."Either way, one of them may be the figurehead but you and I both know that _we'll_ actually be the ones running everything."

Tobirama nodded sagely."The village would be destroyed otherwise."

"For a brat always talking about propriety, neither of you have any respect for your betters," Madara sniffed, interrupting the younger boys’ tirade and dropping to sit beside them.

"Hm.The only thing I know you to be better in is to be a fool," Tobiramashot back, raising his nose to the air mock-pompously."Though I can see that _you_ would consider that an achievement— whoa!"

Tobirama glared at him. “Let me out!”

He squirmed, only his head— free from the ground Madara had buried the rest of the boy’s body in— moved. 

“No thanks.” Madara sneered, crouching down to ruffle Tobirama’s hair and idly admiring its softness. Never had he been so proud of his doton skills. He was going to soak this up for as long as he could.

———————————————————  
  


Tobirama blinked, letting his sword fall with a long-suffering sigh. "Why do they insist on yelling each other's names? _Every battle_. Do they think they would forget them?"

"Hashirama sounds like he's eating something," Izuna wrinkled his nose, bemused.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Tobirama gestured for the clan to stop fighting, content to watch the two idiots destroy the field in what looked like a ridiculous game of tag. "Madara sounds like he's running out of time to say Anija's name and still wants to fit it in."

"You have long names," Izuna shrugged, a sly grin crossing his face. "Imagine if we fought like that,"

Tobirama raised a brow, something like horror marring his features.

Izuna snickered, raising his sword above his head. "Tobiramaaaaaaaa."

He brought it down dramatically. Tobirama snorted, ducking away and sweeping Izuna's feet from beneath him.

"I would indulge you but my tolerance for stupidity is only so able."

“And yet you’re willing to let my brother court you,” Izuna huffed up from the ground. “You keep telling yourself that, Senju. We all know you’re just playing favorites.”

“Can we just have peace now? If I’ve to listen to one more yell—“ an Uchiha whined, leaning heavily against a Senju shinobi who nodded mutely in agreement, still catching his breath.

Tobirama and Izuna glanced at their brothers who were now arguing, crying in Hashirama’s case, and sighed. Nodding, they began pulling out the scrolls they prepared ages ago, settling on the ground to go over the terms with the others.

Some shinobi still looked hesitant.

“We should be finished by the time they notice,” Tobirama said, gesturing to the clan heads.

“We might even get home before then if we’re all cooperative,” Izuna agreed, wheedling along persuasively.

With a fatigued sigh, the other shinobi joined them.

“Yay to peace,” one cheered tiredly.

“Yay to our sanity,” another drawled, dropping to lay down on the ground.

More trees tore from the ground only to be burnt to ash, mere inches from the gathered shinobi.

“Madara! How could—“

“Moss-draping basta—“

The shinobi watched each other in fear. “Um...”

“All in favor— agree, and we bolt— say yay!” Izuna yelped, ducking away from the debris raining overhead.

“Yay!!”

They all bolted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tobi’s a bit stuck-up as a kid and that’s an hc you’ll have to pry from my cold, dead hands and take my broken fingers with XD also yes. Madara did to Tobirama what Kakashi did to Sasuke during the bell test because why not lol
> 
> Question: Which part would you guys like to see more detailed? 
> 
> Hope you liked it and that everyone’s staying safe!! 😁💕


	16. Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Senju were weird. They already knew that. But why does that have to extend to even the mundane aspects of their lives??

The first time Madara noticed it, they were staying with the Nara for their peace talks and Izuna, quiet for most of the meeting, finally spoke up at dinner.

"Is everything alright, Tobirama-san?" He asked, poisonously sweet. "You haven't touched your food yet."

Madara looked away from the deer meandering outside the windows to look at the younger Senju brother, at his still full plate, and blinked in surprise. He looked to Hashirama then, wondering for a moment if perhaps they'd skipped over some ancient rule of propriety that seemed as much genetic for the Senju as were their considerable heights, but no, the older man had already begun eating. In fact, he'd already eaten a bit of everything on his plate.

Hashirama spoke then. "Oh yes, all is well, Izuna-san. Thank you for your concern."

And just like that the younger Senju began eating.

Glancing at Izuna, Madara saw his own confusion reflected back but no one else seemed bothered with the strangeness. Shrugging it off, he went back to eating. The Senju were too weird to be bothered too long with.

The second time he noticed the odd behavior, he'd almost been certain of an insult. It was during a meal the Senjus had joined the Uchihas for— a concerted effort of peace and unity using Senju meat and produce with Uchiha preparation and cooking to create a meal between themselves. For the first time in years, the compound was rich with the scent of foods the war had long denied them, heady and enough to make Madara's mouth water while his stomach ached in earnest. He could not recall a time that they had so much food, especially any that looked so fresh and well-grown, ripe and vibrant from healthy soil and a fair amount of watering. Even the meat (and the surprise of the Senju having deposited more seafood than land creatures wore off as soon as the rank blood of fish gave way to the thrilling scent and color of meat done perfectly) seemed better than what the Uchiha had often made do with.

Once again, as everyone else tucked in, Tobirama waited, face impassive. Here the other Uchiha were quick to notice and he could see them bristling in their seats, slowly setting their chopsticks. Izuna's lips peeled back in a snarl but Madara cut him off hastily.

"Is something wrong, Tobirama-san?" he asked, taking care to keep his voice level and polite. "It would be wrong for me, as your humble host, to continue eating while you sit displeased."

Tobirama blinked at him, and his ears pinked slightly as he seemed to finally notice the attention he garnered. "I mean no offense, Madara-sama, to you or your clan."

"And yet you have not even tasted the food we've offered you," Izuna smiled sharply.

Once again Hashirama spoke up, looking at Tobirama in concern. "Are you feeling any better, Tobirama? The food is delicious, it might help settle your stomach."

Madara cast his glance back to Hashirama's plate. Once again Hashirama had already started eating, having sampled a bite of every dish they'd offered.

Tobirama nodded. "You may be right, Anija. My apologies, Madara-sama, Izuna-san, if I had neglected propriety and respect in my....illness."

Madara nodded. "Perhaps you'd care for some tea? Ginger?"

The silver haired man seemed to fluster a bit before nodding. "That..would be much appreciated, Madara-sama, thank you."

With a quick gesture, Madara had someone prepare and bring the tea, pouring it as he watched Tobirama begin eating. But, though the man had eaten, he didn't touch the tea, not until Hashirama accidentally sipped from the cup thinking it was his own.

The same thing happened with every meal he and Izuna had with the Senju brothers, no matter the delegation that joined them. Even dinner with the Daimyo was not spared from the odd behavior.

"Okay, Hashirama, what's the deal?" Madara huffed. He was irritated....because it made people question the sanity and stability of Konoha's leaders. Not at all because he and the younger Senju had gotten close while administering and developing the village. It had nothing to do with him wanting to take the younger man out for a meal and being worried that Tobirama would not eat.

"What deal?" Hashirama blinked. "The Yuuhei deal? They're a relatively small clan with non-specific talents that could result with more villagers but no benefit to either our shinobi or civilian economies. Since we don't want to turn them away on that alone—"

Madara raised a hand. "I know about the Yuuhei! I helped you write up the treatise! I meant about you and Tobirama. Why doesn't he eat until you...give him a sign that he can?"

He'd noticed it for what it was since the second meal they had together but hadn't really cared until more recently. Was it another of the Senjus' weird rules? Was Hashirama just that controlling?

Hashirama blinked again. "Oh. You noticed that?"

" _Obviously_ ," Madara waved a hand impatiently. "I wouldn't ask otherwise, so just answer the question already."

The older man paused thoughtfully, eyeing Madara at length before steepling his fingers with a sigh. "I am only telling you this because I trust you, Madara. You are my dearest friend." He paused again, taking a deep breath. Brown eyes stared up at the Uchiha seriously. "As you know, I have a natural healing response due to the Mokuton. Even poisons can be quickly metabolized."

The realization dawned then. "Oh."

Hashirama smiled wryly, a shy bitter. "Yes. We've dealt with attempts before. I prefer the minute pain I'd experience, that I have experienced, time and again, to the pain of Tobirama having to deal with the same pain for considerably longer or until his death. But, if you're wondering if he'd eat at, let's say, an establishment in the village while out with others, the answer's yes, Madara. He is fairly attuned to poisoning attempts and quick with handling them if needed but he's not so paranoid. That is mine alone."

Madara flailed his hands, stumbling over sounds and half-made words. "I— you—! listen! I've no idea what you're talking about!"

"Right," Hashirama laughed. "He likes grilled fish and isn't overly fond of alcohol."

"I know that!" Madara snapped, storming out the door. He slammed it shut on the laughter trailing behind him. Then, smiling, he leapt out the window, taking to the roofs. He had a Senju to ask out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo guys, hoped you liked it! I’m hoping to get some of my work updated as the holidays are coming up so 🤞 I’ll have some stuff for you guys to read. On that note, I wrote my first Yahiko/Nagato/Konan fic and would love to hear thoughts on it because I’m going through a phase of absolutely adoring them and want to gush about it lol
> 
> Anyways, stay safe everyone! 😊💕

**Author's Note:**

> I know I’ve other ongoing stories but this struck me and it just kind of happened. I can’t control my mind or hands, they type what they want 
> 
> Comments/kudos might make Madara feel better 
> 
> Okay, that’s a lie, but it’d make me pretty happy XD


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